tihvavy  of  t:he  theological  ^tmimty 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

The  Estate  of 
Harold  McAfee  Robinson,  D,D. 


BV  4015  .J3  1868b 
Jackson,  Thomas,  1783-1873 
Curiosities  of  the  pulpit, 
and  pulpit  literature 


CURIOSITIES  OF  THE  PULPIT. 

MEMORABILIA, 
ANECDOTES,  &c.,  OF  CELEBRATED  PREACHERS. 


New  Pulpit,  St  Mary's,  Stoke  Newington- 


>*' 


CURIOSITIES  OF   T^IE   PULPIT^ 


AND  ^^o^SSBaaB 

PULPIT    LITERATURE: 


MEMORABILIA, 
ANECDOTES,  ETC.,  OF  CELEBRATED  PRP:ACHERS, 


FROM   THE    FOURTH   CENTURY   OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    ERA    TO 
THE   PRESENT   TIME. 


By   THOMAS    JACKSON,    M.A., 

PKEBENUARV    OF    ST.   PAUL'S    CATHEDRAL,    AND    RECTOR    OF    STOKE    NEWINGTON,    LONDON. 


"  I  say  the  Pulpit  (in  the  sober  use 
Of  its  legitimate,  peculiar  powers), 

Must  stand  acknowledged,  while  the  world  shall  stand, 
The  most  important  and  effectual  guard. 
Support  and  ornament  of  virtue's  cause." — Cowper. 


NEW   YORK: 
VIRTUE   AND  YORSTON,   PUBLISHERS. 


ji    an    a i  j^*    *^   ' '    '^  ■    M    H     u    1  IT-  a y   jJT!°!T^^ 


^    "     ■"    "    '* 


^    in    if    M    n    u    u    1 


PREFACE. 


HE  present  time  is  marked  by  much  in- 
quiry into  the  nature  and  design  of 
preaching.  There  is  plenty  of  specula- 
tion as  to  what  a  sermon  ought  to  be ; 
while  a  deep-rooted  suspicion  rests  on  many  minds 
that  the  pulpit  is  gradually  losing  its  power;  or  that 
the  spirit  and  temper  of  the  age  are  unfavourable  to 
the  development  of  great  preachers ;  or  that,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  they  are  not  equal  to  those  of  the 
last  century  ;  or  that  in  style  and  method  they  are, 
with  a  few  brilliant  exceptions,  radically  defective, 
preaching  platitudes,  mere  stereotyped  formulas, 
without  intellectual  or  spiritual  life. 

The  present  volume  has  been  compiled  with  the 
view  of  assisting  such  inquiries,  directing  the 
thoughts  of  preachers  to  the  modes  by  which  their 


vi  Preface. 


predecessors  have  interested  and  benefited  man- 
kind, while  several  extracts  are  given,  designed  to 
show  what  the  preacher  should  carefully  avoid. 
The  general  reader,  being  probably  a  constant 
hearer  of  sermons,  will,  it  may  be  hoped,  find  his 
aptitude  to  listen  increased  by  the  perusal.  In  fact, 
many  anecdotes  have  been  introduced  for  his  special 
instruction  and  amusement. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  art  of  preaching 
has  declined.  While  there  are,  it  is  freely  conceded, 
fewer  stars  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  firmament 
of  the  pulpit,  there  are  infinitely  more  stars  shining ; 
and  if  some  wander,  or  glitter  with  borrowed  rays, 
or,  like  meteors,  appear  for  a  few  moments  and  then 
vanish  away,  a  parallel  case  to  theirs,  if  not  an 
actual  apology  for  them,  may  be  found  in  the 
economy  of  the  visible  heavens. 

The  short  sketches  of  the  ''Wesleyan  Methodist 
Triumvirates "  have  been  furnished  by  one  revered 
not  only  by  that  body,  but  by  good  men  every- 
where. It  will  be  seen  that  the  mental  eye  of  their 
author  is  not  dimmed,  nor  his  critical  force  abated, 
though  he  has  nearly  reached  the  ripe  age  of  four- 
score years  and  ten.  The  writer,  of  course,  alludes 
to  his  venerable  father,  several  times  President  of 
the  Wesleyan  Conference,  and  for  many  years  the 
principal  editor  of  Methodist  literature. 


Preface.  vii 

The  present  volume  Is  simply  a  suggestive  com- 
pilation. The  plan  of  it  does  not  admit  of  sym- 
metrical treatment.  It  contains  no  mention  at  all 
of  many  famous  men — men  of  renown  as  preachers. 
Should  it  be  favourably  received  by  the  public,  it 
will  be  followed  by  a  Second  Series,  one  portion  of 
which  will  be  devoted  to  gems  of  pulpit  oratory, 
from  the  writings  of  divines  of  every  age  and 
country.  The  letters  of  any  correspondent  suggesting 
where  such  treasures  or  anecdotes  may  be  found,  or 
containing  copies  of  them,  with  exact  references,  will 
be  most  gratefully  received  by  the  Publishers.  All 
criticism  of,  or  reference  to,  living  preachers  has 
been  carefully  avoided.  The  author  has  been  a 
somew^hat  diligent  reader  of  sermons  for  about  forty 
years,  and  an  incumbent  in  the  diocese  of  London 
for  upwards  of  thirty,  with  the  exception  of  the  in- 
terval when  he  was  Principal  of  the  Normal  College 
at  Battersea,  so  that  he  has  enjoyed  many  oppor- 
tunities of  obtaining  information  on  the  subject. 
But  he  is  painfully  conscious  of  the  existence  of  an 
infinite  store  of  pulpit  wisdom  and  eloquence  of 
which  he  has  never  even  heard — of  mines  of  intel- 
lectual wealth  altogether  unexplored.  Thankful  to 
the  Giver  of  every  good  gift  will  he  be  if,  through 
reading  the  present  volume,  a  single  preacher  of  the 
gospel  shall  be  stimulated  to  try  to  preach  a  better 


VUl 


Preface. 


sermon — one  more  calculated  to  win  a  soul,  to 
awaken  a  conscience  in  this  busy,  cynical,  criticising, 
but  (may  it  be  added  without  offence  ?)  somewhat 
superficial  age. 

RectorYj  Stoke  Newington,  1868, 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTORY, 


CHAPTER  I. 


II 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  PULPIT  IN  THE  FOURTH  CENTURY, 


21 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PREACHERS  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,   DOWN  TO  THE  PERIOD 

OF  THE  REFORMATION,  .  .  .  ,  .35 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ANECDOTES  AND  REMINISCENCES  OF  CELEBRATED  FRENCH, 
SPANISH,  GERMAN,  AND  OTHER  FOREIGN  PREACHERS, 
FROM  THE  TIME  OF  THE  REFORMATION,     .  .  •         91 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  GREAT  FRENCH   PREACHERS    OF   THE   SEVENTEENTH  AND 

EIGHTEENTH  CENTURIES,    .  .  .  .  .Ill 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGE 
ANECDOTES  AND  REMINISCENCES  OF   ENGLISH  AND    SCOTTISH 
PREACHERS,     SINCE    THE   REFORMATION    TO   THE   END    OF 
THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY,  .  ,  .  .139 

CHAPTER  VII. 

REMINISCENCES  OF  PREACHERS  AND  PREACHING  DURING  THE 
EIGHTEENTH  AND  NINETEENTH  CENTURIES.  —  QUAINT 
AMERICAN  PREACHERS. — WHITEFIELD  AND  THE  TWO 
WESLEYS,       .  .  .  .  .  .  ,219 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

THE    SAME    SUBJECT   CONTINUED. — MODERN    PREACHERS   AND 

SERMONS. — MISCELLANEOUS  ANECDOTES,  ,  ,      281 


INDEX,  .  , 371 


CURIOSITIES  OF  THE  PULPIT. 


CHAPTER    I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


T  may  be  observed  that  a  well-constructed  and 
well-ordered  church  is  a  sort  of  crystallised 
epitome,  a  sermon  in  stone,  illustrating  and 
explaining  the  gospel  system.  As  the  heathen 
temples  were  for  the  most  part  utterly  unsuitable  to  the 
assembhes  of  Christian  worshippers,  the  Roman  em- 
perors, from  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century  after  the 
birth  of  our  blessed  Lord,  freely  placed  at  the  disposal 
of  the  bishops  and  their  flocks  the  vast  halls  of  justice,  or 
courts  of  law,  which  were  to  be  found  in  every  consider- 
able city.  These  buildings  consisted  of  a  broad  central 
nave,  with  side  aisles,  one  end  being  circular,  and  having  a 
platform  in  front  of  it,  raised  on  several  steps.  They  were 
from  two  to  three  hundred  feet  long,  and  seventy  or  eighty 
feet  wide.  The  addition  of  transepts  was,  in  most  cases, 
an  after-thought,  intended  to  symbolise  the  atoning  sacri- 
fice of  Our  dear  Lord  and  Saviour  by  giving  the  building; 


1 2  Churches  in  the  Fourth  Century. 

the  form  of  a  cross.  In  the  Roman  courts  of  justice  the 
judge  sat  a  little  in  front  of  the  spot  where  the  altar  or 
Lord's  table  is  placed  in  Christian  churches.  The  culprit 
stood  immediately  in  front  of  this  elevated  throne,  answer- 
ing to  the  space  between  the  steps  of  the  altar  and  the 
transepts.  Thus  devout  adoration  and  loud  praises  to 
Jesus  are  offered  on  the  spot  corresponding  to  that  where 
He  was  once  arraigned  and  condemned. 

Every  church  built  in  a  spirit  of  reverential  symbolism 
ought  to  contain  three  points  to  which  the  eye  of  the 
spectator  should  be  instantly  directed  on  entering  the 
sacred  precincts.  The  first  should  be  the  altar  or  Lord's 
table,  occupying  the  inmost  shrine,  ever  reminding  us  of 
the  chief  and  central  act  of  public  worship,  the  token  of 
full  communion  with  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  channel  of  grace  to  help  in  times  of  need,  the 
foretaste  of  heavenly  blessedness  and  fruition.  Near  the 
principal  entrance  should  be  the  font,  in  the  sacramental 
water  of  which  infants  are  made  members  of  Christ, 
children  of  God,  and  inheritors  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
This  structure  stands  near  the  door,  because  holy  baptism 
is  the  gate  of  admission  into  the  privileges  and  covenants 
of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom.  It  should  be  large  enough 
to  admit  of  the  complete  immersion  of  the  infant,  that  if 
any  parents  wish  to  have  their  child  entirely  dipped  in  the 
water,  their  pious  desire  may  be  gratified,  and  the  child 
may  be  literally  "  buried  with  Christ  in  baptism,"  that 
"  henceforth  he  should  walk  in  newness  of  life."  In  many 
ancient  churches  we  find  the  baptistery  placed  in  a  side 
chapel,  out  of  the  view  of  the  mass  of  the  congregation  ; 
such  is  the  case  at  St  Patrick's  Cathedral  in  Dublin.  In 
other  places,  as  Pisa  in  Italy,  and  some  cathedrals   in 


Pulpit  Architecture  in  Engla?id.  1 3 

Spain,  a  separate  building  is  provided  for  the  purpose, 
within  the  ts/asi/oj,  or  sacred  close  or  precinct.  Conspi- 
cuous in  the  church,  standing  between  the  font  and  the 
altar,  but  nearer  to  the  altar  than  the  font,  is  placed  the 
pulpit.  This  position  symboHses  the  duty  of  pastoral  in- 
struction. That  instruction  is  to  extend  from  the  infant 
who  has  been  just  baptized,  to  the  Christian  of  ripe  age 
and  character,  kneeling  to  receive  the  memorials  of  the 
Redeemer's  cross  and  passion.  Hence  in  that  short  and 
admirable  homily  addressed  to  god-parents  at  the  close  of 
the  baptismal  service  of  the  Church  of  England,  we  read 
that  they  are  to  call  upon  their  god-children  to  hear 
sermons. 

It  is  observable  that  in  Great  Britain  two  if  not  three 
extreme  classes  of  devout  thinkers  feel  no  sympathy  with 
the  erection  of  beautiful  pulpits.  The  first  are  those  who 
hold  such  transcendental  views  concerning  the  importance 
and  efficacy  of  the  sacraments  as  means  of  grace,  that  they 
regard  the  ordinance  of  preaching  as  little  better  than  rhe- 
torical vapouring,  a  sort  of  excrescence  in  public  worship,  to 
be  shortened  as  much  as  possible.  Others  again  hold  such 
infinitesimal  views  of  all  Christian  ordinances  whatever, 
that  they  think  any  structure  is  good  enough  to  preach  the 
gospel  in,  while  not  a  few  fear  lest  the  spirituality  of  Chris- 
tian instruction  should  be  lost  sight  of,  amidst  the  splen- 
dours which  surround  its  utterance.  It  is  probably  owing 
to  the  negative  influence  of  these  classes  that  there  are 
so  few  worthy  specimens  of  pulpit  architecture  in  the 
country. 

The  term  pulpit  affords  a  striking  instance  of  the  great 
change  of  meaning  and  application  which  words  frequently 
undergo  in  the  process  of  time.  In  the  days  of  heathen  Rome 


14  The  Pulpits  of  Italy,  &>€. 


the  word  pulpitum  signified  that  part  of  the  stage,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  orchestra,  in  the  theatre,  on  which  the 
actors  recited  and  performed  their  parts.  From  this  word 
comes  the  French  pupiti-e,  which  signifies  a  reading-desk. 
In  some  of  the  gigantic  cathedrals  abroad  are  two  pulpits. 
Such  is  the  case  at  Milan.  In  the  last  century  in  England 
our  fathers  used  to  build  up  two  lofty  pulpits  in  the  centre 
of  the  nave,  one  for  the  preacher  and  the  other  for  the  read- 
ing of  the  prayers ;  while  a  third  pulpit,  of  humbler  dimen- 
sions, was  allotted  to  the  parish  clerk.  Now  this  form 
might  suit  the  genius  of  puritanism,  in  places  of  worship 
where  the  minister  delivers  a  long  extempore  prayer,  in 
many  cases  not  altogether  unlike  a  sermon ;  but  it  is  not 
adapted  to  the  blessed  old  prayer-book  service  of  the 
Church  of  England ;  in  which,  as  the  minister  prays  with 
and  at  the  head  of  his  people,  they  knowing  what  he  is 
about  to  say,  all  being  joined  in  sending  up  the  burning 
sacrifice  of  prayer  and  praise,  the  minister  should  be  as 
nearly  on  a  level  with  the  mass  of  the  congregation  as  is 
consistent  with  their  being  able  to  hear.  England  has 
never  been  famous  for  its  pulpits.  Those  of  the  last  cen- 
tury are  the  worst.  They  have  neither  beauty,  nor  form, 
nor  character.  They  are  too  frequently  tasteless  ex- 
crescences, encumbered  with  unmeaning  lumber;  and  with 
respect  to  design,  the  mere  work  of  the  carpenter.  The 
pulpits  of  Belgium  are  triumphs  sometimes  of  grotesque 
singularity,  and  sometimes  of  redundant  art.  The  defect 
of  them  is  that  the  licence  of  ornament  is  not  restrained 
by  correct  taste,  and  the  object  of  the  structure  is  forgotten 
in  a  vainglorious  effort  to  immortalise  the  artist.  The 
oldest  pulpits  of  Italy  are  by  far  the  most  beautiful.  They 
are  of  stone  or  marble,  with  inlaid  or  mosaic  compart- 


Fulpits  preferred  by  the  Jesuits.  1 5 

ments.  Great  cost  both  of  material  and  workmanship 
was  bestowed  upon  them,  and  they  command  unquahfied 
admiration.  Far  different  are  they  from  the  pulpits  of  the 
modern  Roman  Catholic  school,  which  symbolise  the 
vicious  system  of  the  ultramontanes  and  the  Jesuits.  The 
latter  are  a  jumbled  mass  of  ornament,  with  canopies  in 
the  form  of  clouds,  curtains,  palm-branches,  angelical 
boys  with  their  heels  in  the  air,  and  every  variety  of  thea- 
trical extravagance. 

It  has  been  already  remarked,  that  one  class  of  persons 
who  depreciate  handsome  pulpits,  do  so  from  an  avowed 
desire  to  make  light  of  the  ordinance  of  preaching.  Con- 
sidering that  until  the  last  few  years  the  common  phrase 
describing  attendance  at  divine  service  was,  "  I  sit  under 
Mr  So-and-so,"  it  cannot  be  surprising  that  a  reaction 
of  public  opinion  should  have  followed,  and  that  preach- 
ing should  be  deemed  of  httle  value.  A  few  brief  obser- 
vations may  serve  to  keep  devout  minds  from  the  extremes 
of  excess  and  defect  upon  a  matter  so  important. 

The  complaint  that  the  influence  of  the  pulpit  is  and 
ought  to  be  on  the  wane — that,  in  short,  preaching  is  fool- 
ibhness,  is  one  of  no  modern  origin.  It  dates  from  the 
time  of  the  apostles  themselves.  It  may  spring  from  want 
of  sympathy  with  the  preacher,  or  with  the  subject-matter 
of  his  discourses.  It  is  freely  conceded  that  there  has 
been  in  every  age  a  considerable  number  of  dull  and 
uninteresting  sermons;  comparatively  few  men  are  born 
orators,  or  acquire  the  art  of  influencing  large  assemblies. 
Sometimes  again  we  see  a  man  of  the  most  subtle  intellec- 
tual gifts,  and  the  profoundest  learning,  set  to  minister  to  a 
handful  of  unlettered  peasants,  while  on  the  other  hand 
there  is  occasionally  no  proportion  between  the  mental 


1 6  Is  the  Liflue?ice  of  the  Pulpit  declining  ? 

culture  of  the  refined  and  critical  audience  and  the  shal- 
low platitudes  of  the  preacher.  But,  after  all,  the  greatest 
dislike  to  the  ordinance  of  preaching  is  found  in  those 
who  are  indifferent  as  to  religion.  St  Paul's  phrase,  "  The 
foolishness  of  preaching,^'  means  the  signal  folly  of  the 
doctrines  of  the  gospel,  not  as  enunciated  by  the  preacher, 
but  as  set  before  the  minds  of  men  who  do  not  understand 
them,  and  do  not  wish  to  understand.  "  We  preach  Christ 
crucified,"  says  the  apostle,  "  unto  the  Jews  a  stumbUng- 
block,  and  unto  the  Greeks  foolishness ;  but  unto  them 
which  are  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the  power 
of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God."  To  the  Wind  infatuation 
of  the  superstitious  Jew,  to  the  unprofitable  curiosity  of  the 
speculative  Greek  ;  the  former  overflowing  with  prejudice, 
the  latter  with  the  insolence  of  sophistry ;  to  these  the  in- 
trinsic excellence  and  real  grandeur  of  the  gospel  are  but 
as  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbal.  Yet,  in  spite  of 
these  difficulties,  the  foolishness  of  God  is  eventually 
proved  to  be  wiser  than  men,  and  the  weakness  of  God 
to  be  stronger  than  men. 

But  the  fact  may  fairly  be  questioned,  whether  the 
influence  of  the  pulpit  is  declining?  It  is  true,  as  has 
been  well  remarked  by  a  clerical  writer,  that  no  lawyer 
priest  now  keeps  the  king's  conscience  or  dispenses  justice 
from  the  bench.  No  bishop  statesman  or  diplomatist 
holds  the  seals  of  office,  insinuates  himself  into  state 
secrets,  and  diverts  to  the  sacred  caUing  the  respect  due 
to  secular  authority.  From  the  same  and  concurrent 
causes,  the  modern  sermon  has  lost  of  necessity  many 
elements  of  its  ancient  power.  But  such  elements  were 
accidental,  if  not  unwholesome  and  injurious,  to  the  great 
ends  for  which  the  ordinance  of  preaching  was  instituted. 


The  True  Tnfiueiice  of  the  PuI_pU.  17 

Time  was  when  the  preacher  revealed  the  state  secret, 
announced  the  arrival  of  a  new  dynasty,  and  did  the  work 
of  Reuter's  telegrams.  It  is  better  that  in  the  present  age 
he  should  occupy  narrower  ground.  The  space  he  has  to 
cover,  so  to  speak,  is  not  so  large,  but  the  fire  of  his 
weapon  may  be  more  concentrated. 

It  may  be  argued  that  the  influence  of  the  pulpit  will 
never  wane  so  long  as  sin  is  in  the  world  and  death  by 
sin,  so  long  as  man  requires  the  consoling  thought  that  God 
has  set  forth  a  propitiation  for  our  sins,  that  the  infinite 
and  unfathomable  gulf  between  the  moral  Governor  of  the 
universe  and  His  rebelhous  subjects  has  been  bridged 
over  by  Him  who  is  alike  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the 
Life.  There  may  be  a  repulsive  and  foolish  aspect  pre- 
sented by  the  gospel  in  every  age  to  certain  characters 
and  classes.  Some  will  require  a  "  sign"  of  the  preacher's 
commission,  and  the  documents  that  accredit  him.  Some 
will  seek  after  "  wisdom,"  will  demand  an  explanation  from 
him  of  the  fitness  of  the  moral  system  of  Christianity,  and 
of  its  harmonious  correspondence  not  only  with  the  great 
laws  of  the  visible  world,  but  with  those  moral  axioms 
which  proceed  from  the  same  eternal  wisdom  and  power. 
In  enunciating  such  principles,  in  arguing  upon  them,  and 
illustrating  them,  the  preacher  may  be  painfully  deficient ; 
he  may  find  his  reasonings  repelled,  if  not  with  the  scowl 
of  contempt,  at  least  with  the  smile  of  pity.  But  he  will 
have  miscalculated  his  resources,  if  he  depends  upon  such 
preaching  for  the  success  of  his  work.  His  heart  will  not 
fail,  nor  will  his  arm  be  unnerved,  when  he  is  told  by  men 
who  will  sit  any  length  of  time  to  hear  a  sensational  drama^ 
that  sermons  ought  to  be  very  short.  He  will  bide  his 
time,  calmly  awaiting  the  golden  opportunity  when  God's 


1 8  The  True  Influence  of  the  Pulpit. 

strength  will  be  made  perfect  in  his  weakness,  and  when 
the  heart  of  that  gainsayer  will  be  touched  by  some  word 
spoken  in  season. 

The  central  topic  of  all  Christian  preaching  is  the 
doctrine  of  a  crucified  Redeemer.  It  is,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  work  and  the  process  of  redemption,  and  the 
glad  tidings  which  spread  it  abroad.  It  is,  on  the  other, 
the  practical  effects  of  that  Gospel  in  modifying,  renewing, 
sublimating,  every  character  upon  which  it  is  brought  to 
bear.  The  declaration  of  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  is 
an  emphatic  summary  of  a  good  sermon :  "  I  determined 
not  to  know  anything  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ  and 
Him  crucified."  That  declaration  forms  the  concentrated 
essence,  the  very  pith  and  substance  of  the  whole  New 
Testament ;  and  when  those  who  rightfully  claim  to  be  re- 
ceived as  ministers  of  Christ  and  stewards  of  the  mysteries 
of  God,  make  that  topic  the  aim,  the  effort,  the  habitual 
theme  of  their  teaching,  they  prepare  the  way  of  the 
Lord,  they  make  straight  in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our 
God ;  they  illustrate  the  singular  and  unparalleled  events 
by  which  every  valley  was  to  be  exalted  and  every  moun- 
tain and  hill  to  be  made  low,  the  crooked  to  be  made 
straight,  the  rough  places  plain,  the  glory  of  the  Lord  to 
be  revealed,  and  all  flesh  to  see  that  glory  together. 

It  is  true  that  the  message  of  salvation  does  not  appear 
at  all  times  to  all  persons  to  be  clothed  equally  with  the 
power  of  God.  While  the  conscience  of  one  man  is 
touched,  his  self-will  humbled,  his  pride  laid  low — while 
the  refuge  of  lies  in  which  he  intrenched  himself,  as  in  an 
impregnable  fortress,  is  invaded  and  broken  down; — to 
another  the  realities  of  the  eternal  world  will  appear  so 
distant  and  misty  as  to  offer  no  attractions,  suggest  no 


The  True  Influence  of  the  PulpU.  ig 

dangers,  invite  no  change  of  conduct  or  amendment  of 
life.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  Hsteth,  and  ye  hear  the 
sound  thereof,  but  cannot  tell  whence  it  cometh,  and  whither 
it  goeth  :  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Sphit."  A 
good  seaman  sets  every  sail  when,  in  the  midst  of  a  calm, 
he  descries  the  distant  sign  of  the  waking  wind,  the  little 
cloud  like  an  airy  veil  over  the  horizon,  the  dimples  on  the 
face  of  the  ocean,  the  freshening  of  the  air.  So  the  Christian 
waits  and  watches  for  the  faintest  whispers  of  the  Holy 
Spirit — of  Him  who  moves  on  the  waters  of  human  action 
— and  forthwith  spring  motion  and  warmth,  light  and  life. 

The  attitude  proper  to  the  Christian  minister  under 
such  impressive  circumstances  must  be  that  which  charac- 
terised the  prophet  when,  filled  with  a  spirit  of  mingled 
confidence  and  expectation,  he  tarried  the  Lord's  leisure. 
His  sentiments  may  be  expressed  in  the  solemn  determi- 
nation, "  I  will  go  there  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord  God, 
making  mention  of  His  righteousness,  even  of  His  only." 
He  will  appear  before  the  people  not  only  with  the  earnest- 
ness of  passion,  but  with  a  calm  and  settled  persuasion 
that  his  work  sooner  or  later  will  not  be  in  vain.  The 
message  carries  its  power  within  itself.  He  need  not 
affect  a  sanctimonious  austerity  with  his  people.  He  may 
live  among  them  with  the  familiarity  and  frankness  which, 
if  it  occasionally  expose  him  to  insult,  yet,  weighed  in  the 
balances  of  life  and  enjoyment,  is  infinitely  better  than  the 
distance  and  dignity  affected  by  some  public  functionaries. 
The  pastor  who  thoroughly  believes  the  atonement,  and 
bravely  preaches  the  remission  of  sins  through  a  crucified 
Saviour,  may  live  in  a  sober  yet  unshrinking  assertion  of 
his  independence  on  the  smile  of  a  patron  or  the  frown 
of  a  tyrant. 


20  Sermons  not  Worship. 

A  pastoral  ministry  which  has  for  its  foundation  Jesus 
Christ  and  Him  crucified,  may  draw  its  illustrations  from 
every  varied  incident  recorded  in  the  Bible,  every  signal 
event  of  public  history.  The  nursery  of  children  may  be 
the  theme  of  discussion  when  we  remember  Who  was  the 
"  Child  that  was  set  for  the  rise  and  fall  of  many  in  Israel." 
The  marriage  of  a  man  and  of  a  woman  is  encircled  with 
a  new  and  peculiar  gravity  and  grandeur  when  we  connect 
it  with  the  words  of  the  apostle,  "  This  is  a  great  mystery, 
but  I  speak  concerning  Christ  and  the  Church."  The 
humblest  occupations  of  rural  life  are  dignified  by  the 
thought  of  Him  who  after  His  resurrection  appeared  in 
the  guise  of  the  gardener.  The  mortal  puts  on  immor- 
tality when  the  minister  preaches,  "I  know  that  my 
redeem.er  liveth ;  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  saith 

the   Lord." 

******** 

An  eminent  preacher  used  to  say — "  Sermons  are  not 
worship;  they  are  but  means  to  an  end.  Ends  and 
means  must  not  be  confounded.  The  road  to  London  is 
not  London." 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    PULPIT    IN    THE    FOURTH    CENTURY. 


HE  sermon  of  Our  Blessed  Lord  on  the  Mount, 
and  His  other  divine  discourses,  addressed  not 
to  selected  pupils  and  admiring  friends,  but 
emphatically  to  the  multitude — to  publicans 
and  sinners,  to  toil-worn  traders  and  humble  artisans — 
are  the  first  original  examples,  as  they  are  the  unapproach- 
able models,  of  Christian  preaching.  St  Peter's  inspired 
discourse  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  when  three  thousand 
were  pricked  to  the  heart,  naturally  follows  them ;  and  so 
we  study  in  succession  the  addresses  of  the  apostles,  and 
such  specimens  of  the  sacred  oratory  of  the  first  three 
centuries  as  have  been  handed  down  to  us,  until  we  reach 
the  fourth  century,  when  the  art  of  preaching  culminated ; 
and  from  John  of  the  Golden  Mouth,  presbyter  and 
bishop,  from  the  lips  of  St  Augustine  and  St  Basil,  there 
issued  sermons  of  such  intellectual  strength,  such  per- 
suasive, loving  force,  as  have  been  rarely  equalled,  and 
certainly  never  surpassed.  There  were  giants  in  those 
days.  Among  others,  St  Pantaenus,  the  Sicihan  bee,  who 
flourished  towards  the  close  of  the  second  century,  was  so 
called  because  his  sermons  were  like  honey  flowing  from 
the  Rock  of  Ages.     St  Cyprian  and  Ephrem  Syrus  were 


22  Gibbon  on  the  Power  of  the  Pulpit. 

also  everywhere  famed  for  their  pungent  and  sublime 
appeals.  The  historian  Gibbon,  in  the  twentieth  chapter  of 
"  The  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  section 
vi.,  describes  with  cynical  sarcasm  the  rise  and  progress 
of  pulpit  oratory;  but  while  intending  to  depreciate  the 
motives  of  the  great  preachers  among  the  Nicene  Fathers, 
he  bears  involuntary  testimony  to  their  method  and  influ- 
ence. In  this  point  of  view  his  words  deserve  quota- 
tion : — 

"  Every  popular  government  has  experienced  the  effects 
of  rude  or  artificial  eloquence.  The  coldest  nature  is 
animated,  the  firmest  reason  is  moved,  by  the  rapid  com- 
munication of  the  prevailing  impulse,  and  each  hearer  is 
affected  by  his  own  passions,  and  by  those  of  the  surround- 
ing multitude.  The  ruin  of  civil  hberty  had  silenced  the 
demagogues  of  Athens  and  the  tribunes  of  Rome;  the 
custom  of  preaching,  which  seems  to  constitute  a  con- 
siderable part  of  Christian  devotion,  had  not  been  intro- 
duced jnto  the  temples  of  antiquity ;  and  the  ears  of 
monarchs  were  never  invaded  by  the  harsh  sound  of 
popular  eloquence  till  the  pulpits  of  the  empire  were 
filled  with  sacred  orators  who  possessed  some  advantages 
unknown  to  their  profane  predecessors.  The  arguments 
and  rhetoric  of  the  tribune  were  instantly  opposed,  with 
equal  arms,  by  skilful  and  resolute  antagonists ;  and  the 
cause  of  truth  and  reason  might  derive  an  accidental  sup- 
port from  the  conflict  of  hostile  passions.  The  bishop, 
or  some  distinguished  presbyter  to  whom  he  cautiously 
delegated  the  powers  of  preaching,  harangued,  without 
the  danger  of  interruption  or  reply,  a  submissive  multi- 
tude, whose  minds  had  been  prepared  and  subdued  by 
the  awful  ceremonies  of  religion.      Such  was  the  strict 


Preaching  Powe?'  in  the  Fourth  Century.  23 

subordination  of  the  Catholic  Church,  that  the  same  con- 
certed sounds  might  issue  at  once  from  an  hundred  pulpits 
of  Italy  or  Egypt,  if  they  were  tuned  by  the  master-hand 
of  the  Roman  or  Alexandrian  Primate.  The  design  of 
this  institution  was  laudable,  but  the  fruits  were  not  always 
salutary.  The  preachers  recommended  the  practice  of  the 
social  duties,  but  they  exalted  the  perfection  of  monastic 
virtue,  which  is  painful  to  the  individual  and  useless  to 
mankind.  Their  charitable  exhortations  betrayed  a  secret 
wish  that  the  clergy  might  be  permitted  to  manage  the 
wealth  of  the  faithful  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor.  The 
most  sublime  representations  of  the  attributes  and  laws  of 
the  Deity  were  sullied  by  an  idle  mixture  of  metaphysical 
subtleties,  puerile  rites,  and  fictitious  miracles;  and  they 
expatiated,  with  the  most  fervent  zeal,  on  the  religious 
merit  of  hating  the  adversaries  and  obeying  the  ministers 
of  the  Church.  When  the  public  peace  was  distracted  by 
heresy  and  schism,  the  sacred  orators  sounded  the  trumpet 
of  discord,  and  perhaps  of  sedition.  The  understandings 
of  their  congregations  were  perplexed  by  mystery,  the 
passions  were  inflamed  by  invectives,  and  they  rushed 
from  the  Christian  temples  of  Antioch  or  Alexandria,  pre- 
pared either  to  suffer  or  to  inflict  martyrdom.  The  cor- 
ruption of  taste  and  language  is  strongly  marked  in  the 
vehement  declamations  of  the  Latin  bishops  ;  but  the 
compositions  of  Gregory  and  Chrysostom  have  been 
compared  with  the  most  splendid  models  of  Attic,  or  at 
least  of  Asiatic  eloquence." 

St  Chrysostom  may  be  selected  as  the  best  specimen  of 
preaching  power  in  the  fourth  century.  He  was  born  in 
354  at  Antioch,  on  the  Orontes,  then,  as  the  apostate 
Julian  informs  us,  the  very  centre  of  splendour,  luxury, 


24  S^  CJwysostom's  Method  of  Preaching. 

vice,  and  depraved  sophistical  thought.  »  He  owed  much 
to  his  venerable  instructor,  but  far  more  to  his  refined 
and  accomplished  mother.  There  is  a  peculiarity  about 
his  homilies  which  renders  them  invaluable  to  the  archaeo- 
logist, as  well  as  to  the  theologian  and  devout  Christian. 
They  set  before  us,  as  in  a  photograph,  the  manners,  the 
costume,  the  family  life,  the  vices,  the  politics  of  the  wild 
and  turbulent  age  in  which  he  lived.  "The  emperor,  the 
commissioners,  bishops,  and  prefects,"  says  one  of  his 
panegyrists,  "  are  by  his  genius  preserved  like  pieces  of 
weed  in  amber."  One  can  see  how  the  fashionable  gentle- 
woman of  the  new  Rome  that  was  rising  on  the  Bosphorus 
attired  her  feet  and  dressed  her  hair.  He  was  a  man  of 
infinite  resources.  He  drew  his  illustrations,  analogies, 
and  arguments  from  every  department  of  the  creation, 
even  from  grotesque  incidents  which  might  occur  in  the 
church  while  he  was  preaching ;  but,  above  all,  from  the 
rich  stores  of  the  inspired  writings  of  the  Old  Testament. 
These  he  diligently  studied  and  fervently  believed,  and, 
therefore,  he  quoted  them  with  an  unction  which  was 
irresistible.  And  it  may  be  maintained,  that  when  the 
same  Scriptures  are  so  studied,  believed,  and  quoted  as 
the  foundation  of  argument  in  the  present  day,  it  is  dis- 
covered that  they  have  not  lost  one  jot  or  tittle  of  their 
vital  force.  He  who  is  "mighty  in  the  Old  Testament 
Scriptures  "  will  be  a  winner  of  souls. 

Any  attempt  to  illustrate  St  Chrysostom's  method  of 
preaching  from  his  numerous  writings,  will  appear  to  those 
who  have  diligently  studied  them  like  the  conduct  of  the 
simple  Athenian,  who,  when  he  had  a  country  house  to 
sell,  brought  a  single  brick  into  the  agora  as  a  specimen 
to  enable  the  intending  purchaser  to  judge  of  the  build- 


The  Great  Christian  Orator.  25 

ing.  But  as  few  have  the  leisure,  and  still  fewer  the 
learning  requisite  to  realise  all  the  golden  stores  of  the 
great  Christian  orator,  the  attempt  must  be  made.  Let 
the  following  quotations  invite  the  reader  to '  explore 
further  the  rich  mine  of  treasure. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  following  passage  on 

The  Infinite  Love  of  the  Lord. 

"  A  man  has  been  insulted,  and  we  are  all  in  fear  and 
trembling — both  those  of  us  who  have  been  guilty  of  this 
insult,  and  those  of  us  who  are  conscious  of  innocence. 
But  God  is  insulted  every  day.  Why  do  I  say  every  day] 
Rather  should  I  say  every  hour,  by  rich  and  by  poor,  by 
those  who  are  at  ease  and  those  who  are  in  trouble,  by 
those  who  calumniate  and  those  who  are  calumniated; 
and  yet  there  is  never  a  word  of  this ;  therefore,  God  has 
permitted  our  fellow-servant  to  be  insulted,  that  thou 
mayest  know  the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord.  This 
offence  has  been  committed  only  for  the  first  time,  yet 
we  do  not,  on  that  account,  expect  to  reap  the  advantage 
of  excuse  or  apology.  We  provoke  God  every  day,  and 
make  no  movement  of  returning  to  Him ;  and  yet  He 
bears  with  all  long-suffering  ;  see  you  how  great  is  the 
loving-kindness  of  the  Lord.  In  this  present  outrage,  the 
culprits  have  been  apprehended,  thrown  into  prison,  and 
punished ;  and  yet  we  are  in  fear.  He  who  has  been 
insulted  has  not  heard  of  what  has  been  done,  nor  pro- 
nounced sentence ;  and  we  are  all  trembling.  But  God 
hears  day  by  day  the  insults  offered  to  Him,  and  no  one 
turns  to  Him,  although  God  is  so  kind  and  loving.  With 
Him  it  is  enough  to  acknowledge  the  sin,  and  the  guilt  is 
absolved.  .  .  .  Do  you  not  hence  conclude  how  unspeak- 


26  The  Eloquence  of  St  Chrysostoni. 


able  is  the  love  of  God,  how  boundless,  how  it  surpasses 
all  description  %  Here  he  who  has  been  insulted  is  of  the 
same  nature  with  ourselves ;  only  once  in  all  his  life  has 
he  been  so  treated,  and  that  not  to  his  face,  not  while  he 
was  present  and  seeing  and  hearing,  and  yet  none  of  the 
offenders  have  been  pardoned.  But  in  the  case  of  God, 
not  one  of  these  things  can  be  said.  For  so  vast  i^  the 
distance  between  man  and  God,  that  no  words  can  express 
it,  and  every  day  is  He  insulted  while  He  is  present,  look- 
ing on,  and  hearing;  and  yet  He  neither  hurls  thunderbolts, 
nor  bids  the  sea  overflow  the  earth  and  drown  all  its  in- 
habitants, nor  commands  the  earth  to  yawn  and  swallow 
up  all  who  have  insulted  Him  ;  but  He  forbears,  and  is 
long-suffering,  and  offers  pardon  to  those  by  whom  He 
has  been  outraged,  if  they  only  repent  and  promise  to  do 
so  no  more.  Oh,  surely  it  is  time  to  exclaim,  Who  can 
utter  the  mighty  acts  of  the  Lord  ?  Who  can  show  forth 
His  praise  % " 

Study  the  splendid  and  indignant  oration  which  he 
pronounced  when  his  enemies  were  sentencing  him  to 
banishment,  of  which  the  following  startling  passage  is  a 
specimen,  imperfectly  rendered  in  the  translation,  for  the 
original  is  inimitable  : — 

"  What  can  I  fear  %  Will  it  be  death  %  But  you  know 
that  Christ  is  my  life,  and  that  I  shall  gain  by  death. 
Will  it  be  exile  %  But  the  earth  and  all  its  fulness  is  the 
Lord's.  Will  it  be  the  loss  of  wealth  %  But  we  brought 
nothing  into  the  world,  and  can  carry  nothing  out.  Thus 
all  the  terrors  of  the  world  are  contemptible  in  my  eyes ; 
and  I  smile  at  all  its  good  things.  Poverty  I  do  not  fear. 
Riches  I  do  not  sigh  for.  Death  I  do  not  shrink  from ; 
and  life  I  do  not  desire,  save  only  for  the  progress  of  your 


'JTie  Eloquence  of  St  Chrysostom.  27 

souls.  But  you  know,  my  friends,  the  true  cause  of  my 
fall.  It  is  that  I  have  not  lined  my  house  with  rich 
tapestry.  It  is  that  I  have  not  clothed  me  in  robes  of 
silk.  It  is  that  I  have  not  flattered  the  effeminacy  and 
sensuality  of  certain  men,  nor  laid  gold  and  silver  at  their 
feet.  But  why  need  I  say  more  %  Jezebel  is  raising  her 
persecution,  and  EHas  must  fly;  Herodias  is  taking  her 
pleasure,  and  John  must  be  bound  with  chains;  the 
Egyptian  wife  tells  her  lie,  and  Joseph  must  be  thrust  into 
prison.  And  so,  if  they  banish  me,  I  shall  be  like  Elias ; 
if  they  throw  me  into  the  mire,  like  Jeremiah ;  if  they 
plunge  me  into  the  sea,  like  the  prophet  Jonah  ;  if  into 
the  pit,  like  Daniel ;  if  they  stone  me,  it  is  Stephen  that 
I  shall  resemble ;  John  the  forerunner,  if  they  cut  off  my 
head ;  Paul,  if  they  beat  me  with  stripes ;  Isaiah,  if  they 
saw  me  asunder." 

On  one  occasion,  while  he  continued  preaching,  pro- 
bably seated  on  his  high  chair,  cathedra,  or  throne  in 
the  choir  of  the  church,  the  sunlight  grew  dim,  and  an 
attendant  began  to  kindle  the  lamps.  On  this  the  atten- 
tion of  the  congregation  was  distracted;  the  preacher 
perceived  this,  and  recalled  their  wandering  thoughts  in 
the  following  pungent  words  : — 

"  Let  me  beg  you  to  arouse  yourselves,  and  to  put 
away  that  sluggishness  of  mind.  But  why  do  I  say  this  % 
At  the  very  time  when  I  am  setting  forth  before  you  the 
Scriptures,  you  are  turning  your  eyes  away  from  me,  and 
fixing  them  upon  the  lamps^  and  upoii  the  man  who  is 
lighting  the  lamps.  Oh,  of  what  a  sluggish  soul  is  this  the 
mark,  to  leave  the  preacher,  and  turn  to  him !  I,  too,  am 
kindling  the  fire  of  the  SciHpticres ;  and  upon  my  tongue 
there  is  burning  a  taper,  the  taper   of  sound   doctrine. 


28  The  Eloquence  of  St  Basil. 


Greater  is  this  light,  and  better,  than  the  light  that  is 
yonder.  For,  unlike  that  man,  it  is  no  wick  steeped  in 
oil  that  I  am  lighting  up.  I  am  rather  inflaming  souls, 
moistened  with  piety,  by  the  desire  of  heavenly  discourse." 

He  delighted  to  preach  on  the  vanity  of  worldly  pomp, 
the  deceitfulness  of  riches,  the  uncertainty  and  evanescence 
of  human  life,  the  duty  of  making  large  and  liberal  ofi'er- 
ings  for  the  sustenance  of  the  poor  and  the  spread  of  the 
gospel. 

Many  of  St  Chrysostom's  boldest  passages  were  extem- 
pore^ and  would  never  have  come  down  to  us  had  he  not 
been  attended  by  swift  and  admiring  shorthand  writers. 
He  was  sometimes  scandalised  by  the  loud  applauses  of 
the  people,  following  some  grand  paragraph  :  something 
like  the  hum  which  used  to  tickle  the  ears  of  Bishop 
Burnet  when  he  preached  in  the  churches  of  the  city  of 
London.  St  Chrysostom's  tone  and  temper  were  too  high 
and  solemn  to  be  gratified  by  such  irregular  demonstra- 
tions of  approval  ;  while  Gregory  Nazianzen  is  said  to 
have  enjoyed  them  as  tokens  that  the  people  listened 
attentively,  admitting  the  force  of  his  arguments,  and  pre- 
pared to  follow  his  godly  counsel  and  reproof 

The  soft  and  deUcious  eloquence  of  St  Basil  must  not 
be  forgotten  in  any  attempt  to  sketch  the  style  of  the 
preaching  of  the  fourth  century.  His  great  enjoyment 
consisted  in  preaching  to  the  poor  working- classes  of 
C^sarea;  and  when  he  died,  such  crowds  attended  his 
funeral  that  not  a  few  were  crushed  to  death. 

Mr  Horace  Moule,  in  his  able  "  Inquiry  into  the  History 
of  Christian  Oratory  during  the  First  Five  Centuries," 
gives  the  following  sketch  of  the  style  and  method  of  St 
Augustine's  pulpit  ministrations  : — 


Style  of  St  Augustine.  29 


"  Of  Augustine,  it  may  most  truly  be  said,  that  he,  if 
any  man,  had  experience  of  those  phases  in  the  soul's 
history,  when  *  the  tongue  cleaves  even  to  the  roof  of  the 
mouth,  and  when  silence  is  kept  even  from  good  words.' 
It  was  not  only  his  being  Prelate  of  the  West,  instead  of  a 
Prelate  of  the  East,  that  occasioned  the  wide  difference 
between  himself  and  Basil,  Gregory,  or  even  Chrysostom. 
The  intense  passion  of  his  temperament,  which  imparted 
so  much  energy  to  his  intellectual  operations,  and  which 
is  often  the  cause  of  the  rich  and  vigorous  flow  of  his 
language,  produces  also  that  quiet  rejection  of  rhetorical 
ornament  which  we  find  so  prevalent  throughout  his  un- 
pretending sermons.  The  De  Civitate  Dei  has,  as  might  be 
expected,  a  good  store  of  florid  language,  some  specimens 
exhibiting  the  very  highest  style  of  beauty.  But  his  subject 
in  that  case  not  only  was  suited  to  elaborate  ornament ;  it 
sometimes  imperatively  demanded  the  very  grandest  utter- 
ance. The  general  tone  of  Augustine  was,  however,  that 
of  a  man  who,  while  he  was  too  sensible  to  despise  the 
aids  of  artistic  eloquence,  was  himself,  for  the  most  part, 
far  above  them.  His  words  bearing  directly  upon  the 
subject  are  tinged  with  a  speaking  sadness.  '  Eloquence 
is  another  stream  of  Babylon;  it  is  one  of  the  many  objects 
qiice  aniantur  et  transeiint; '  it  is  a  mere  frigus  et  Aqiiilo, 
compared  with  the  genial  breezes  of  God,  the  Austet 
translatus  de  coslo^ 

From  this  statement,  marked  by  severe  critical  acumen 
and  wisdom,  it  may  be  inferred  that  we  are  not  to  look 
for  sparkHng  gems  of  eloquence  in  St  Augustine's  dis- 
courses. They  are  terse  and  argumentative,  especially 
setting  forth  what  are  popularly  called  the  doctrines  of 
grace.     The  supremacy  of  the  divine  will,  the  absolute 


30  Venerable  Bede. 


freedom  of  the  divine  election,  the  godHness  of  man  an 
entirely  supernatural  work ;  these  are  his  favourite  topics. 
John  Calvin,  with  the  ruthless  logic  of  his  French  analytical 
mind,  did  but  develope  them,  and  by  the  process  often 
spoiled  them  ;  while  some  of  his  in  discriminating  followers 
have  tacked  and  fastened  on  to  the  precious  doctrine  of 
the  absolute  freedom  of  God's  electing  grace,  the  horrible 
fiction  of  the  reprobation  of  individuals  from  all  eternity  \ 
the  living  and  helpful  truth  to  the  deadly,  corrupting,  and 
soul-disheartening  he. 

VENERABLE  BEDE 

Was  born  in  635,  and  died  in  672.  He  resided  a  long 
time  at  Jarrow.  He  wrote  many  homihes.  He  stands 
midway  between  the  preachers  of  the  Nicene  period  and 
those  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  following  short  extract 
will  give  some  idea  of  his  style.  Bede  supposes  St  Paul  and 
St  Michael  to  petition  that  the  lost  souls  might  have  rest  on 
Sundays  from  their  punishment.  He  says,  in  explanation — 
"  It  was  the  Lord's  will  that  Paul  should  see  the  punish- 
ments of  that  place.  He  beheld  trees  all  on  fire,  and 
sinners  tormented  on  those  trees;  and  some  were  hung 
by  the  feet,  some  by  their  hands,  some  by  the  hair,  some 
by  the  neck,  some  by  the  tongue,  and  some  by  the  arm. 
And  again  he  saw  a  furnace  of  fire  burning  with  seven 
flames,  and  many  were  punished  in  it :  and  there  were 
seven  plagues  round  about  this  furnace ;  the  first  was 
snow,  the  second  ice,  the  third  fire,  the  fourth  blood,  the 
fifth  serpents,  the  sixth  lightning,  the  seventh  stench ;  and 
in  that  furnace  itself  were  the  souls  of  the  sinners  who 
repented  not  in  this  life.  There  they  are  tormented,  and 
every  one  receiveth  according  to  his  works ;  some  weep, 


Style  of  the  Venerable  Bcde.  31 


some  howl,  some  groan,  some  burn  and  desire  to  have 
rest,  but  find  it  not,  because  souls  can  never  die." 

Again : — 

"  And  after  this  he  saw  between  heaven  and  earth  the 
soul  of  a  sinner  howling  betwixt  seven  devils  that  had  on 
that  day  departed  from  the  body." 

Then  in  another  passage  : — 

*' And  Paul  demanded  of  the  angel.  How  many  kinds  of 
punishment  there  were  in  hell  %  And  the  angel  said,  There 
are  a  hundred  and  forty-four  thousand;  and  if  there  were  a 
hundred  eloquent  men,  each  having  four  iron  tongues, 
that  spoke  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  they  could 
not  reckon  up  the  torments  of  hell." 

The  preacher  then  draws  the  practical  conclusion  : — 

"  But  let  us,  beloved  brethren,  hearing  of  these  so  great 
torments,  be  converted  to  our  Lord,  that  we  may  be  able 
to  reign  with  the  angels." 

This  good  but  credulous  man  was  never  canonized; 
but  he  obtained  the  title  of  "  venerable  "  by  the  volun- 
tary homage  of  his  contemporaries,  and  from  the  utility 
of  his  works ;  a  tribute  much  more  honourable  to  his 
memory.  The  monks,  however,  not  satisfied  with  such 
respectable  cause  for  the  appellation,  have  favoured  us 
with  two  accounts  of  its  origin.  "  When  blind,"  say  some 
of  these  authors,  "  he  preached  to  a  heap  of  stones,  think- 
ing himself  in  a  church,  and  the  stones  were  so  much 
affected  by  his  eloquence  and  piety,  that  they  answered, 
Amen,  ve7terable  JBede,  Amen."  While  others  assert  that  his 
scholars  being  desirous  of  placing  upon  his  tomb  an  epitaph 
in  rhyme,  agreeably  to  the  usage  of  the  times,  wrote — 

"  Hac  sunt  in  fossa, 
Bedae  presbyteri  ossa," 


32  6*/  Boniface, 


which  not  meeting  complete  approbation,  the  much-vexed 
poet  determined  to  fast  until  he  should  succeed  better. 
Accordingly,  he  expunged  the  word  presbyieri,  and  in  vain 
attempted  to  substitute  one  more  sonorous  and  consistent 
with  metre,  until  faUing  fast  asleep,  an  angel  filled  up  the 
blank  thus  left,  and  rendered  the  couplet  thus  : — 

"  Hac  sunt  in  fossa, 
Bedse  venerabilis  ossa." 

Our  good  historian  is  frequently  styled  Admirable  Bede, 
as  well  as  the  Venerable  Bede,  as  already  mentioned. 
The  chair  in  which  he  composed  his  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory is  still  preserved  at  Jarrow.  Some  few  years  since 
this  chair  was  entrusted  to  the  custody  of  a  person  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  nautical  affairs,  and  who  used, 
by  a  whimsical  mistake,  very  excusable  in  a  sailor,  to 
exhibit  it  as  a  curiosity  which  formerly  belonged  to  the 
great  Admiral  Bede,  upon  whose  exploits  he  ventured 
several  encomiums  consistent  with  the  naval  character. 

ST  BONIFACE. 

Among  the  few  remarkable  preachers  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  era.  Saint  Boniface  stands  foremost.  He  was  born 
in  Devonshire,  about  680.  He  was  the  apostle  of  Fries- 
land  and  Central  Germany.  After  labouring  with  great 
success  for  upwards  of  thirty  years  among  the  half-Chris- 
tian, half-heathen  natives  of  that  region,  he  was  slain  by 
the  Frisians  near  Utrecht.  He  founded  four  cathedrals  in 
Germany.  He  first  preached  to  the  fishermen  of  the  Isle 
of  Wight,  where  the  village  of  Bonchurch  still*  recalls  his 
memory.  A  magnificent  basilica  is  dedicated  by  his 
name  at  Munich.     It  is  the  exact  model  of  a  court  of 


Bishops  ^Ifric  and  Wuljstan,  33 

justice  of  the  age  of  Constantine,  and  is  filled  with  vast 
frescoes  representing  the  principal  events  of  the  martyr's 
life. 

BISHOP  iELFRIC 

Must  not  be  overlooked  in  any  work  which  touches  upon 
English  sermons.  He  is  said  to  have  been  the  son  of  an 
Earl  of  Kent.  While  yet  a  youth,  he  assumed  the  habit 
of  the  Benedictines  in  the  monastery  of  Abingdon.  In  988 
he  was  made  Abbot  of  St  Albans,  and  shortly  after  was 
promoted  to  the  Bishopric  of  Wilton.  In  994,  he  was 
translated  to  the  Archbishopric  of  Canterbury,  where  he 
died,  Nov.  16,  1005.  He  was  distinguished  not  only  for 
learning,  but  for  zeal  in  the  spread  of  knowledge.  He 
was  the  first  in  the  country  that  ever  issued  formally  a 
volume  of  sermons.  They  were  partly  translated  from  the 
Latin  fathers,  and  partly  compiled  from  homilies  in  Ger- 
man and  Anglo-Saxon,  and  they  were  the  more  valuable 
because  few  men  could  preach. 


BISHOP  WULFSTAN 

Was  an  eminent  Anglo-Saxon  prelate  in  the  tenth  and 
eleventh  centuries.  During  the  earlier  part  of  his  episcopal 
career,  the  city  of  Bristol  was  a  great  slave-mart.  Rows  ot 
young  people,  of  both  sexes,  and  of  conspicuous  beauty, 
were  tied  together  with  ropes,  and  placed  for  sale  in  the 
public  market.  They  were  exported  to  Ireland,  the  young 
women  having  been  previously  prostituted.  Wulfstan 
sometimes  stayed  two  months  amongst  the  ignorant  and 
half-heathen  population  of  the  city,  preaching  every  Lord's 
day.    In  process  of  time,  he  induced  them  to  abandon  their 

c 


34  Bishop  Wulfsta?i, 


wicked  trade,  and  they  became  an  example  to  all  Eng- 
land. 

When  Wulfstan  was  consecrated  Bishop  of  Sherbourne, 
St  Dunstan  strongly  advised  him  7iot  to  let  his  tongue 
cease  to  preach.  There  was  the  greater  necessity  for  this 
counsel,  as  so  few  were  experts  in  the  divine  art. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PREACHERS  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES,  DOWN  TO  THE 
PERIOD  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


! 


WO  able  works  have  been  recently  published  on 
this  subject ;  one  by  the  late  learned  Dr  Neale 
of  Sackville  College,  entitled  "  Mediaeval 
Preachers  and  Mediaeval  Preaching :  A  Series 
of  Extracts  translated  from  the  Sermons  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  with  Notes  and  an  Introduction."  The  other  is, 
"  Post-Mediaeval  Preachers ;  Some  Account  of  the  most 
celebrated  Preachers  of  the  Fifteenth,  Sixteenth,  and  Seven- 
teenth Centuries,  with  Outlines  of  their  Sermons,  and  Speci- 
mens of  their  Style.  By  S.  Baring  Gould,  M.A."  Both 
these  volumes  will  amply  repay  perusal.  They  are  full  of 
helping  and  suggestive  matter,  ready  to  the  mind  and  pen 
of  the  weary  priest,  who,  after  a  day's  toil  in  the  distract- 
ing round  of  minute  and  inconclusive,  but  not  the  less 
necessary  clerical  duty,  sits  down  in  his  study  to  prepare  a 
sermon.  They  will  strengthen  and  refresh  his  soul,  like 
the  upper  and  nether  springs.  Nor  are  they  less  rich  in  in- 
terest to  the  general  reader. 

The  records  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us  of 
sermons  delivered  during  the  middle  ages,  would,  upon 
a  slight   and   superficial   survey,    conduct   us   to   diame- 


36  Preachers  of  the  Middle  Ages. 


trically  opposite  conclusions.  On  the  one  side,  we  see 
friar  preachers  deahng  with  the  great  truths  of  revelation, 
as  the  performers  of  the  mystery  dramas  dealt  with  the 
events  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments ;  that  is,  presenting 
them  with  strange  and  grotesque  uncouthness,  and  always, 
if  possible,  giving  them  an  aspect  more  or  less  ridiculous, 
yet  with  an  equally  strange  intermingling  of  wild  imagery 
and  tender  pathos.  On  the  other  side,  we  see  men 
imbued  with  apostolical  piety  and  fervour,  preaching 
with  apostolical  unction  and  force ;  now  thundering  ava- 
lanches of  vehement  remonstrance  against  every  form  of 
evil,  whether  in  high  or  low  places,  and  now  breathing 
consolation  and  hope  to  the  penitent  in  the  most  tender 
tones.  Monks  preach  before  monarchs,  and  lash  the  vices 
of  the  royal  courtiers.  They  mount  the  pulpit  of  the 
abbey  church,  and  abbot  and  prior,  simple  recluses  and 
lay  brethren,  acolytes  and  door-keepers,  wince  alike  under 
their  severe  and  homely  thrusts.  Pretentious  women 
enter  the  sanctuary  in  all  the  pomp  and  pride  of  station, 
of  splendid  attire  or  youthful  beauty ;  they  leave  it 
thoroughly  ashamed  of  themselves,  weeping  tears  of  re- 
pentance, and  saying  in  heart,  if  not  with  voice  articulate, 
"  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  It  is  observable  that 
some  of  the  preachers  of  Austria  and  Italy  still  affect  the 
style  and  manner  of  these  old  times,  and  that  the  listener 
to  their  discourses  might  imagine  that  one  of  the  grotesque 
gargoyles  had  become  suddenly  vocal,  or  a  statue  had 
stepped  down  from  its  flamboyant  niche  and  was 
addressing  the  congregation.  The  following  anecdotes 
and  specimens  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  foregoing  intro- 
ductory remarks  : — 


Philip  de  Narni.  ^'j 


PHILIP  DE  NARNI. 

Rapin,  obtaining  his  information  from  Balzac,  makes 
mention  of  a  Capuchin,  named  PhiHp  de  Narni,  who, 
under  Pope  Gregory  XV.,  preached  at  Rome  with  so 
much  strength,  eloquence,  and  zeal,  that  he  never  spoke 
in  public  but  he  made  the  people  cry  about  the 
streets,  when  they  came  from  his  sermons,  "■  Loj'd,  have 
mercy  upon  us."  It  is  even  said  that,  having  preached 
once  before  the  pope,  on  the  obligations  bishops  are 
under  to  reside  in  their  respective  dioceses,  he  was  so 
earnest  and  zealous  upon  that  subject,  that  he  frightened 
thirty  bishops  Avho  heard  him,  and  the  next  day  they  all 
hurried  away  from  the  so-called  capital  of  Western  Chris- 
tendom. Foulque  de  Neuilly  was  a  similar  character, 
who  was  so  popular  that  he  had  to  buy  a  new  cassock 
almost  every  day,  as  the  people  tore  it  to  atoms  and 
carried  it  away  piecemeal,  so  desirous  were  they  of  pos- 
sessing a  shred  of  his  garments. 

THE  capuchin's  SERMON  AT  THE  CATHEDRAL  OF  ST 
STEPHEN,  AT  VIENNA. 

A  Capuchin,  preaching  a  Lent  lecture  at  the  great 
Cathedral  of  St  Stephen,  at  Vienna,  is  said  to  have 
startled  his  audience  by  a  fearful  narration,  somewhat  to 
the  following  effect : — 

"  There  was  once  a  huge  and  wealthy  monastery  in  this 
duchy.  Its  vineyards  produced  rich  and  well-flavoured 
wine.  Its  barns  were  filled  with  all  manner  of  store. 
Fat  beeves  chewed  the  cud  in  its  meadows.  Carp  by 
thousands  were  leaping  in  its  fish-ponds.  The  neighbour- 
ing trout-stream  was  the  pride  of  the  monks  and  the  envy 
of  every  other  religious  house  in  Germany.      Well !  the 


38  A  Captichifi^s  Sermojt  at  Vienna. 

reverend  fathers  ate,  drank,  and  were  merry.  They  never 
kept  a  Lenten  fast.  They  were  utterly  unconscious  of 
the  pangs  of  hunger,  or  the  humihations  of  penury,  so  they 
never  fed  the  famishing,  or  clothed  the  naked.  They  had 
more  wine  than  they  required  for  the  mass,  and  not 
enough  to  turn  their  mills  with,  so  they  caroused  from 
night  till  morning,  and  from  morning  to  night.  One 
solemn  day,  a  day  of  penitence  and  prayer,  according  to 
the  rules  of  their  order,  they  were  indulging  in  wild  uproar 
and  revelry.  The  refectory  echoed  with  snatches  of  licen- 
tious song,  and  laughter  following  some  double-edged  jibe. 
Suddenly,  a  loud  knock  was  heard  at  the  outer  door, 
knock,  knock,  knock.  The  janitor  went  to  open  it,  and 
was  startled  by  the  apparition  of  a  thin,  tall  man;  his 
skull  bones  scarcely  covered  with  the  parchment-skin 
stretched  over  them.  He  was  attired  in  the  frock  of  the 
order,  but  the  shape  was  antiquated,  the  material  scarcely 
to  be  recognised  ;  it  was,  moreover,  threadbare  and  moth- 
eaten.  He  asked,  in  hollow  and  sepulchral  tones,  for  ad- 
mittance. The  janitor  was  alarmed,  and,  shutting  the  gate 
on  the  stranger,  went  to  seek  instructions  from  the  supe- 
rior. *  There  stands  at  the  gate  an  odd,  queer  man,  who 
asks  for  admittance.     He  wears  the  frock  of   our  order, 

but ' *  No  biifs,'  said  the  abbot ;  '  let  him  in.     We 

must  show  hospitality  to  the  brethren ;  place  him  a  chair 
by  my  side,  fill  him  a  goblet  of  wine,  and  fetch  forthwith 
knife,  platter,  and  pasty.'  The  strange  monk  was  intro- 
duced ;  he  bowed ;  he  took  his  seat ;  but  his  head  was 
covered  with  his  cowl,  and  he  ate  not  a  morsel,  he  drank 
not  a  drop.  In  a  few  minutes  more  knocks  were  heard  at 
the  gate ;  ktiock,  knock,  KNOCK  !  Again  the  janitor 
approached,  trembling,  and  faltered  forth,  '  O  sir,  there 


A  Capichinh  Sermon  at  Vie?ma.  39 

are  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  these  thin  monks  before  the 
gate,  demanding  admittance  !'  'Let  them  all  in  !  We  've 
wine  enough  to  last  till  the  millennium  !'  So  in  they  came, 
crowding  the  refectory.  The  hall  was  crammed  ;  the  vesti- 
bule, the  steps  of  the  pulpit,  where  the  reader  edified  the 
brethren  while  they  dined ;  the  pulpit  itself,  and  many 
stood  on  the  book-board  half  poised  in  the  air.  Then 
there  arose  a  distant  sound  as  of  crackling,  crackling, 
crackling ;  a  deadly  odour  as  of  flesh  burning,  mingled 
with  sulphurous  steam.  The  living  monks  were  filled  with 
consternation.  Their  knees  smote  together,  and  their 
tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  their  mouth,  for  they  felt  that 
they  were  in  the  presence  of  the  dead.  Then  uprose  the 
first  ghost  that  had  appeared,  and  said,  '  Brethren,  I  was 
once  the  abbot  of  this  ancient  and  venerable  house.  I 
ate,  I  drank,  I  caroused,  I  never  worshipped.  In  my 
heart,  I  neither  feared  God  nor  regarded  man  ;  and  now  I 
am  tormented  in  the  flames.  These  were  my  companions  ; 
they  led  a  similar  life  of  gluttony  and  lust,  and  they  are, 
in  like  manner,  tormented.  But  we  must  glorify  the  Lord 
even  in  the  fire !  So  sing,  brethren,  Gloria  Patri,  et 
FiLio,  ET  Spiritui  Sancto.'  The  spectres  hissed  out  an 
awful  Gregorian  tone,  concluding  with  Amen.  A  loud 
clap  of  thunder  accompanied  the  strain,  and  when  it  was 
finished  the  strange  guests  had  disappeared,  the  refectory 
contained  only  the  Hving  monks.  They  repented ;  they 
did  works  meet  for  repentance.  They  sold  their  cellar  of 
wine,  and  rebuilt  their  church  with  great  magnificence. 
They  founded  an  hospital.  They  fed  the  poor.  They 
nursed  the  plague-stricken,  in  the  year  of  the  great  pesti- 
lence. They  died  in  the  odour  of  sanctity,  and  let  us 
hope  that  they  will  find  mercy  in  that  day." 


40  Passages  from  Mediceval  Sermons. 


Mr  Gould,  in  the  work  already  referred  to,  says  of  these 
medieval  preachers,  "  they  did  not  make  long  extracts, 
but  with  one  light  sweep  brushed  up  a  whole  bright  string 
of  sparkling  Scripture  instances."  As  an  illustration  of 
this  opinion,  he  quotes  the  following  beautiful  passage  : — 

"  Many  are  called^  hut  few  are  chosen" 

"  Noah  preached  to  the  old  world  for  a  hundred  years 
the  coming  in  of  the  flood,  and  how  many  were  saved 
when  the  world  was  destroyed  ?  Eight  souls,  and  among 
them  was  the  reprobate  Ham.  Many  were  called,  but 
only  eight  were  chosen. 

"  When  God  would  rain  fire  and  brimstone  on  the  cities 
of  the  plain,  were  ten  saved  1  No ;  only  four,  and  of 
these  four  one  looked  back.  Many  were  called,  but 
three  were  chosen. 

'*  Six  hundred  thousand  men,  besides  women  and  chil- 
dren, went  through  the  Red  Sea,  the  like  figure  whereunto 
baptism  doth  even  now  save  us.  The  host  of  Pharaoh 
and  the  Egyptians  went  in  after  them,  and  of  them  not  one 
reached  the  farther  shore.  And  of  these  Israelites,  who 
passed  through  the  sea  out  of  Egypt,  how  many  entered 
the  promised  land,  the  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honeyl 
Two  only — Caleb  and  Joshua.  Many — six  hundred  thou- 
sand— were  called ;  few,  even  two,  were  chosen.  All  the 
host  of  Pharaoh,  a  shadow  of  those  who  despise  and  set 
at  nought  the  Red  Sea  of  Christ's  blood,  perish  without 
exception  ;  of  God's  chosen  people,  image  of  His  Church, 
only  few  indeed  are  saved. 

"  How  many  multitudes  teemed  in  Jericho,  and  of  them 
how  many  escaped  when  Joshua  encamped  against  the 
city?    The  walls  fell,  men  and  women  perished.     One 


Passages  fro?n  Mediceval  Sermo?is.  4 1 

house  alone  escaped,  known  by  the  scarlet  thread,  type  of 
the  blood  of  Jesus,  and  that  was  the  house  of  a  harlot. 

*'  Gideon  went  against  the  Midianites  with  thirty-two 
thousand  men.  The  host  of  Midian  was  without  number, 
as  the  sand  of  the  sea-side  for  multitude.  How  many  of 
these  thirty-two  thousand  men  did  God  suffer  Gideon  to 
lead  into  victory?  Three  hundred  only.  Many,  even 
thirty-two  thousand  men,  were  called  ;  three  hundred 
chosen. 

"  Type  and  figure  this  of  the  many  enrolled  into  the 
Church's  army,  of  whom  so  few  go  on  to  '  fight  the  good 
fight  of  faith.' 

"  Of  the  tribes  of  Israel  twelve  men  only  7vere  chose?!  to  be 
apostles;  and  of  those  twelve,  one  was  a  traitor,  one 
doubtful,  one  denied  His  Master,  all  forsook  Him. 

"  How  many  rulers  were  there  among  the  Jews  when 
Christ  came;  but  one  only  went  to  Him,  and  he  by 
night ! 

"  How  mafiy  rich  men  were  there  when  our  blessed  Lord 
walked  this  earth  ?  but  one  only  ministered  unto  Him,  and 
he  only  in  His  burial. 

"  How  7na7iy  peasa7its  were  there  in  the  country  when 
Christ  went  to  die  %  but  one  only  was  deemed  worthy  to  bear 
His  cross,  and  he  bore  it  by  constraint. 

"  How  many  thieves  were  there  in  Judcea  when  Christ 
was  there  %  but  one  only  entered  Paradise,  and  he  was  con- 
verted in  his  last  hour. 

"  How  many  ce?ittirions  were  there  scattered  over  the 
province  ?  and  o?te  o?ily  saw  and  believed,  and  he  by 
cruelly  piercing  the  Saviour's  side. 

"  How  many  harlots  were  there  in  that  wicked  and 
adulterous  generation  1  but  ofie  only  washed  His  feet  with 


42  S^  Bernard. 


tears,  and  wiped  them  with  the  hair  of  her  head.     Truly 
*  Many  are  called,  but  feiu  are  chosenl  " 

ST  BERNARD A.D.    IO91-II53. 

St  Bernard  stands  out  by  far  the  most  conspicaous 
preacher  of  the  middle  ages.  He  was  born  of  noble 
parentage,  at  Fontaines,  near  Dijon,  in  Burgundy.  He 
was  the  St  Chrysostom  of  his  age ;  but,  if  possible,  more 
picturesque  and  vehement.  Like  St  Chrysostom  and  St 
Augustine,  he  owed  much  to  his  mother,  named  Alice. 
He  was  a  sort  of  Elijah,  bold,  austere,  uncompromising; 
ready  to  persecute  and  slay  to  the  uttermost  those  who 
differed  from  him,  and  at  the  same  time  discoursing  on 
the  Song  of  Solomon  with  almost  feminine  softness.  He 
denounced  the  frailties  of  churchmen  and  laity  alike  with 
unsparing  hand.  The  following  passages  may  be  taken 
as  specimens  of  his  style.     Mark  how  he  satirizes  : — 

The  Gluttony^  Vanity,  and  Hypocrisy  of  Climiac  Monks. 
"  Who  could  say,  to  speak  of  nothing  else,  in  how 
many  forms  eggs  are  cooked  and  worked  up  %  with  what 
care  they  are  turned  in  and  out,  made  hard  or  soft,  or 
chopped  fine  ;  now  fried,  now  roasted,  now  stuffed ;  now 
they  are  served  mixed  with  other  things,  now  by  them- 
selves ;  even  the  external  appearance  of  the  dishes  is  such 
that  the  eye,  as  well  as  the  taste,  is  charmed;  and  when 
even  the  stomach  complains  that  it  is  full,  curiosity  is  still 
alive.  So  also  what  shall  I  say  about  water-drinking,  when 
even  wine  and  water  is  despised  ]  We,  all  of  us,  it  ap- 
pears, directly  we  become  monks,  are  afflicted  with  weak 
stomachs,  and  the  important  advice  of  the  apostle  to  use 
wine,  we,  in  a  praiseworthy  manner,  endeavour  to  follow ; 


Sf  Bernard^ s  Ser 7710ns.  43 


but  for  some  unexiDlained  reason,  the  condition  of  a  little 
is  usually  omitted.  ..... 

"  You  say,  religion  is  in  the  heart ;  true,  but  when  you 
are  about  to  buy  a  cowl  you  rush  over  to  the  towns,  visit 
the  markets,  examine  the  fairs,  dive  into  the  houses  of  the 
merchants,  turn  over  all  their  goods,  undo  their  bundles  of 
cloth,  feel  it  with  your  fingers,  hold  it  to  your  eyes,  or  to 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  and  if  anything  coarse  or  faded  ap- 
pears, you  reject  it ;  but  if  you  are  pleased  with  any  object 
of  unusual  beauty  or  brightness,  you  buy  it,  whatever  the 
price.  Does  this  come  from  your  heart,  or  your  simpli- 
city %  I  wonder  that  our  abbots  allow  these  things,  unless 
it  arises  from  the  fact,  that  no  one  is  apt  to  blame  any 
error  with  confidence,  if  he  cannot  trust  to  his  own  free- 
dom from  the  same 

"  Again,  with  our  bellies  full  of  beans,  and  our  minds  of 
pride,  we  condemn  those  who  are  full  of  meat,  as  if  it  were 
not  better  to  eat  a  little  fat  on  occasion  than  to  be  gorged, 
even  to  belching,  with  windy  vegetables.  ..... 

"  The  church's  walls  are  resplendent,  but  the  poor  are 

not  there The  curious  find  wherewith  to  amuse 

themselves  ;  the  wretched  find  no  stay  for  them  in  their 
misery.  Why,  at  least,  do  we  not  reverence  the  images  of 
the  saints,  with  which  the  very  pavement  we  walk  on  is 
covered  %    Often  an  angel's  mouth  is  spit  into,  and  the  face 

of  some  saint  trodden  on  by  the  passers-by But  if 

we  cannot  do  without  the  images,  why  can  we  not  spare 
the  brilliant  colours  ]  What  has  all  this  to  do  with  monks, 
with  professors  of  poverty,  with  men  of  spiritual  minds  ? 

*'  Again,  in  the  cloisters,  what  is  the  meaning  of  those 
ridiculous  monsters,  of  that  deformed  beauty,  that  beauti- 
ful deformity,  before  the  very  eyes  of  the  brethren  when 


44  "SV  Bernard's  Sermons. 


reading?  What  are  disgusting  monkeys  there  for,  or 
ferocious  lions,  or  horrible  centaurs,  or  spotted  tigers,  or 
fighting  soldiers,  or  huntsmen  sounding  the  bugle  %  You 
may  see  there  one  head  with  many  bodies,  or  one  body  with 
numerous  heads.  Here  is  a  quadruped  with  a  serpent's 
tail ;  there  is  a  fish  with  a  beast's  head  ;  there  a  creature, 
in  front  a  horse,  behind  a  goat;  another  has  horns  at  one 
end,  and  a  horse's  tail  at  the  other.  In  fact,  such  an  end- 
less variety  of  forms  appears  everywhere,  that  it  is  more 
pleasant  to  read  in  the  stonework  than  in  books,  and  to 
spend  the  day  in  admiring  those  oddities  than  in  meditat- 
ing on  the  law  of  God.  Good  God  !  if  we  are  not  ashamed 
of  these  absurdities,  why  do  we  not  grieve  at  the  cost  of 
them  r' 

The  following  gem  belongs  to  another  style  of  thought 
and  emotion.  To  feel  it  fully,  one  should  wander  alone 
in  the  deep  embowering  woods  which  surround  the  ruins 
of  Fountain's  Abbey,  in  Yorkshire,  undisturbed  by  vulgar 
tourists  and  insatiable  guides.  The  imagination,  kindUng 
in  the  hushed  and  haunted  groves,  should  go  back  to  the 
time  when  the  stillness  and  dimness  that  precede  the 
dawn  were  broken  by  the  voices  of  the  brethren  at  matins, 
and  the  dim  light  of  the  tapers  twinkling  through  the 
storied  windows  of  the  convent  chapel.  We  should  behold 
in  vision  some  old  hermit,  once  a  mighty  manslayer,  ill- 
famed  for  the  dishonour  of  women  and  the  lust  of  blood, 
now  winning  barren  lands,  subduing  them  for  the  husband- 
man, and  himself  turned  to  the  Lord  with  full  purpose  of 
heart.  He  kneels  devoutly  on  his  knees  as  the  bell  sum- 
mons the  brethren.  He  is  now  ready  to  be  offered.  He 
is  worn  down  with  fasting  and  penitences,  the  time  of  his 
departure  is  at  hand.     Some  MSS.,  traced  in  artistic  and 


Sf  Bernard  V  Ser 


mons.  45 


reverent  devices  by  the  scriptores  of  the  cloister,  lie  before 
him.  He  opens  one  and  peruses  the  burning  words  of 
the  great  founder  and  master  of  his  order,  translating 
into  intelligible  vocables  the  yearning  of  that  hermit's 
heart : — 

God  All  m  All. 

"  But  who  can  grasp  the  magnitude  of  delight  compre- 
hended in  that  short  word  1  God  will  be  all  in  all.  Not 
to  speak  of  the  body,  I  perceive  three  things  in  the  soul — 
reason,  will,  memory ;  and  these  three  make  up  the  soul. 
How  much  each  of  these  in  this  present  world  lacks  of 
completion  and  perfectness,  is  felt  by  every  one  who 
walketh  in  the  Spirit.  Wherefore  is  this,  except  because 
God  is  not  yet  all  in  all?  Therefore  it  is  that  our  reason 
falters  in  judgment,  that  our  will  is  feeble  and  distracted, 
that  our  memory  confounds  us  by  its  forgetfulness.  We 
are  subjected  unwillingly  to  this  threefold  weakness,  but 
hope  abides.  For  He  who  fills  with  good  things  the 
desires  of  the  soul,  He  himself  will  be  to  the  reason  the 
fulness  of  light ;  to  the  will,  the  abundance  of  peace ;  to 
the  memory,  the  unbroken  smoothness  of  eternity.  O 
truth !  O  charity !  O  eternity !  O  blessed  and  blessing 
Trinity  !  to  Thee  my  miserable  trinity  miserably  groans, 
while  it  is  in  exile  from  Thee.  Departing  from  Thee,  in 
what  errors,  griefs,  and  fears  is  it  involved !  Alas,  for 
what  a  trinity  have  we  exchanged  Thee  away  !  My  heart 
is  disturbed,  and  hence  my  grief;  my  strength  has  forsaken 
me,  and  hence  my  fear ;  the  light  of  my  eyes  is  not  with 
me,  and  hence  my  error.  O  trinity  of  my  soul !  what  a 
changed  trinity  dost  thou  show  me  in  mine  exile  ! 

*' '  But  why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul !  and  why  art 


46  Funeral  Oi'atioii  by  St  Bernard, 


thou  disquieted  within  mel  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I 
shall  yet  praise  Him/ — that  is,  when  error  shall  have  left 
my  mind,  sorrow  my  will,  fears  my  memory ;  and  serenity, 
sweetness,  and  eternal  peace  shall  have  come  in  their 
stead.  The  first  of  these  things  will  be  done  by  the  God 
of  truth  ;  the  second,  by  the  God  of  charity ;  the  third,  by 
the  God  of  omnipotence  ;  that  God  may  be  all  in  all :  the 
reason  receiving  light  inextinguishable,  the  will  peace  im- 
perturbable, the  memory  cleaving  to  a  fountain  which 
shall  never  fail.  You  may  judge  for  yourselves  whether 
you  would  rightly  assign  the  first  to  the  Son,  the  second  to 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  last  to  the  Father;  in  such  a 
manner,  however,  that  you  take  away  nothing  of  any  of 
them,  either  from  the  Father,  or  the  Son,  or  the  Holy 
Ghost." 

Let  us  quote  from  the  "  Life  and  Times  of  Saint  Ber- 
nard, by  J.  C.  Morison,  M.A.,  Lincoln  College,  Oxford," 
one  more  specimen  of  the  great  mediaeval  orator.  His 
brother  Gdrard,  who  had  been  one  of  his  early  converts, 
died  on  the  very  day  that  St  Bernard  was  to  preach  one  of 
his  expository  sermons  on  the  Song  of  Solomon.  His 
heart  was  full  to  overflowing,  for  he  tenderly  loved  his 
brother.  He  ascended  the  pulpit  at  the  appointed  hour, 
and  interwove  with  his  subject  a  funeral  oration  on 
Gerard's  death.     His  text  was — 

"  As  the  tents  of  Kedar,  as  the  curtains  of  Solomon ^^ 
"  We  must  begin  from  this  point,  because  it  was  here 
that  the  preceding  sermon  was  brought  to  a  close.  You 
are  waiting  to  hear  what  these  words  m.ean,  and  how  they 
are  connected  with  the  previous  clause,  since  a  comparison 
is  made  between  them.     Perhaps  both  members  of  the 


Fimeral  Oration  by  Sf  Bernard.  47 

comparison,  viz.,  '  As  the  tents  of  Kedar,  as  the  curtains 
of  Solomon,'  refer  only  to  the  first  words,  *  I  am  black/ 
It  may  be,  however,  that  the  simile  is  extended  to  both 
clauses,  and  each  is  compared  w4th  each.  The  former 
sense  is  the  more  simple,  the  latter  the  more  obscure. 
Let  us  try  both,  beginning  with  the  latter,  which  seems  the 
more  difficult.  There  is  no  difficulty,  however,  in  the 
first  comparison,  *  I  am  black  as  the  tents  of  Kedar,'  but 
only  in  the  last.  For  Kedar,  which  is  interpreted  to  mean 
'  darkness'  or  *  gloom,'  may  be  compared  with  blackness 
justly  enough  ;  but  the  curtains  of  Solomon  are  not  so 
easily  likened  to  beauty.  Moreover,  who  does  not  see 
that  '  tents '  fit  harmoniously  with  the  comparison  ?  For 
what  is  the  meaning  of  '  tents,'  except  our  bodies,  in 
which  we  sojourn  for  a  time.  Nor  have  we  '  an  abiding 
city,  but  we  seek  one  to  come.'  In  our  bodies,  as  under 
tents,  we  carry  on  warfare.  Truly,  we  are  violent  to  take 
the  kingdom.  Indeed,  the  life  of  man  here  on  earth  is  a 
warfare  ;  and  as  long  as  we  do  battle  in  this  body,  we  are 
absent  from  the  Lord,  i.e.^  from  the  light.  For  the  Lord 
is  light,  and  so  far  as  any  one  is  not  in  Him,  so  far  He  is 
in  darkness,  £<?.,  in  Kedar.  Let  each  one  then  acknow- 
ledge the  sorrowful  exclamation  as  his  own  :  '  Woe  is  me 
that  my  sojourn  is  prolonged  !  I  have  dwelt  with  those 
who  dwell  in  Kedar.  My  soul  hath  long  sojourned  in  a 
strange  land.'  Therefore  this  habitation  of  the  body  is 
not  the  mansion  of  the  citizen,  nor  the  house  of  the  native, 
but  either  the  soldier's  tent  or  the  traveller's  inn.  This 
body,  I  say,  is  a  tent,  and  a  tent  of  Kedar,  because,  by  its 
interference,  it  prevents  the  soul  from  beholding  the  in- 
finite light.  00000 
To-day,  what  an  exceeding  multitude  of  joys  and  bless- 


48  Funeral  Oration  by  St  Bernard, 

ings  is  thine  !  Instead  of  me  thou  hast  Christ ;  nor  canst 
thou  feel  thy  absence  from  thy  brethren  here,  now  that 
thou  rejoicest  in  choruses  of  angels.  Nothing,  therefore, 
can  make  thee  deplore  the  loss  of  our  society,  seeing  that 
the  Lord  of  majesty  and  the  hosts  of  heaven  vouchsafe  to 
thee  their  presence.  But  what  have  I  in  thy  stead  %  What 
would  I  not  give  to  know  what  thou  now  thinkest  of  thy 
Bernard,  tottering  amid  cares  and  afflictions,  and  bereaved 
of  thee,  the  staff  of  my  weakness  %  if,  indeed,  it  be  per- 
mitted to  one,  who  is  plunged  into  the  abyss  of  light,  and 
absorbed  in  the  great  ocean  of  eternal  felicity,  still  to  think 
of  the  miserable  inhabitants  of  the  earth.  It  may  be  that 
though  thou  knewest  us  in  the  flesh,  thou  knowest  us  no 
more,  and  since  thou  hast  entered  into  the  powers  of  the 
Lord,  thou  rememberest  only  His  justice,  forgetful  of  us. 
Moreover,  he  that  is  joined  unto  the  Lord  is  one  spirit, 
and  is  entirely  changed  into  one  holy  feeling ;  neither  can 
he  think  of  or  wish  for  aught  but  God  and  the  things 
which  God  thinks  and  wishes,  being  full  of  God.  But 
God  is  Love,  and  the  more  closely  a  man  is  united  to  God, 
the  fuller  he  is  of  love.  Further,  God  is  without  passions, 
but  not  without  sympathy,  for  His  nature  is  always  to  have 
mercy  and  to  spare.  Therefore  thou  must  needs  be  mer- 
ciful, since  thou  art  joined  to  the  Merciful  One,  although 
misery  now  be  far  from  thee ;  thou  canst  compassionate 
others,  although  thou  sufferest  not  thyself.  Thy  love  is 
not  weakened,  but  changed.  Nor  because  thou  hast  put 
on  God  hast  thou  laid  aside  all  care  for  us,  for  '  He  also 
careth  for  us.'  Thou  hast  discarded  thine  infirmities,  but 
not  thy  affections.  '  Charity  never  faileth  :'  thou  wilt  not 
forget  me  at  the  last. 

"  I  fancy  I  hear  my  brother  saying  to  me,  *  Can  a 


St  AjithoJiy  of  Padua.  49 

woman  forget  her  sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have 
compassion  on  the  son  of  her  womb  %  Yea,  they  may- 
forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee.'  Truly  it  were  lamentable 
if  he  did.  Thou  knowest,  Gerard,  where  I  am,  where  I 
lie,  where  thou  leftest  me.  No  one  is  by  to  stretch  forth 
a  hand  to  me.  I  look,  as  I  have  been  wont  to  do  in  every 
emergency,  to  Gerard,  and  he  is  not  there.  Then  do  I 
groan  as  one  that  hath  no  help.  Whom  shall  I  consult  in 
doubtful  matters?  To  whom  shall  I  trust  in  trial  and 
misfortune  %  Who  will  bear  my  burdens  %  Who  will  pro- 
tect me  from  harm  %  Did  not  Gerard's  eyes  prevent  my 
steps  %  Alas,  my  cares  and  anxieties  entered  more  deeply 
into  Gerard's  breast  than  into  my  own,  ravaged  it  more 
freely,  wrung  it  more  acutely.  His  wise  and  gentle  speech 
saved  me  from  secular  conversation,  and  gave  me  to  the 
silence  which  I  loved.  The  Lord  hath  given  him  a 
learned  tongue,  so  that  he  knew  when  it  was  proper  to 
speak.  By  the  prudence  of  his  answers,  and  the  grace 
given  him  from  above,  he  so  satisfied  both  our  own  people 
and  strangers,  that  scarcely  any  one  needed  me  who  had 
previously  seen  Gerard.  He  hastened  to  meet  the  visitors, 
placing  himself  in  the  way  lest  they  should  disturb  my 
leisure.  Such  as  he  could  not  dispose  of  himself,  those 
he  brought  in  to  me  ;  the  rest  he  sent  away.  O  diligent 
man  !     O  faithful  friend  !  " 

ST  ANTHONY  OF  PADUA 

Must  be  distinguished  from  the  simple  and  eccentric 
friend  of  St  Athanasius.  The  former  was  born  at  Lisbon, 
in  1 1 95.  At  first  he  was  one  of  the  regular  canons.  The 
translation  of  the  five  Franciscan  martyrs  to  Coimbra 
filled  him  with  a  yearning  desire  to  follow  their  bright 

D 


50  The  F/udence  of  ArchbishoJ>  Crafi?ner. 

example.  He  was  eventually  employed  in  revivalist  mis- 
sions throughout  the  north  and  centre  of  Italy.  He  died 
at  Padua,  worn  out  with  labour,  June  13,  123 1.  A  mag- 
nificent church  was  dedicated  to  his  honour  near  the  spot 
where  he  expired.  It  is  enriched  by  painting  and  sculp- 
ture, and  the  chapel  of  the  saint  is  one  of  the  most  splen- 
did in  Christendom.  When  St  Anthony  was  announced 
as  about  to  preach,  the  church  was  thronged  from  day- 
break. Sometimes  he  had  to  leave  the  building,  and 
address  the  assembled  multitudes  in  the  open  air.  Nor 
were  the  practical  effects  of  his  ministry  less  striking.  Old 
enemies  were  seen  shaking  hands,  and  women  selling  their 
ornaments  to  distribute  to  the  poor.  Though  born  and 
educated  in  Portugal,  his  Italian  was  pure  and  idiomatic. 
Pope  Gregory  IX.,  after  hearing  one  of  his  discourses, 
exclaimed,  "  It  is  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  the  shrine  of 
Holy  Scripture  !"  The  sketches  of  his  sermons  which  have 
come  down  to  us  are  not  equal  to  the  reputation  of  St 
Anthony.  Like  other  great  preachers,  he  probably  owed 
much  to  his  manner. 

We  are  not,  however,  to  suppose  that  all  mediaeval  ser- 
mons breathe  tlie  eloquence  of  St  Bernard  and  St  Anthony. 
The  writings  of  the  period  of  the  Reformation  contain 
allusions  to,  and  specimens  of,  homilies  of  a  very  differ- 
ent description.  Making  every  allowance  for  the  spirit 
of  exaggeration  and  sarcasm  in  which  the  Reformers 
would  describe  the  sermons  of  the  monks  and  friars,  we 
find  that  many  of  the  latter  delivered  the  most  absurd 
rhapsodies,  and  were  justly  denounced.  The  penetrating 
and  politic  mind  of  Archbishop  Cranmer  was  fully  alive  to 
this  abuse  of  the  pulpit,  and  with  prudent  skill,  he 
attempted  to  remove  it.    He  sought  and  laboured  to  make 


Extracts  fro7tt  Medicevai  Sdrmons.  51 

sermons  the  vehicle  of  sound  Christian  instruction.  The 
sermons  of  the  time  of  Henry  the  Eighth  contain  sad 
proofs  of  the  mental  poverty  of  the  preachers.  One  friar, 
inveighing  against  irreverence  towards  the  ministers  of 
religion,  relates  the  following  story  : — "  Saint  Augustine," 
said  he,  "  saw  two  women  prating  together  in  the  chapel 
of  the  pope,  and  the  fiend  sitting  on  their  necks  writing 
a  long  roll  of  what  the  women  said.  The  devil  accident- 
ally let  fall  the  roll,  and  the  saint  took  it  up.  Asking  the 
women  what  they  had  talked  about,  they  replied,  '  We 
have  been  only  saying  a  few  Paternosters.'  St  Augustine 
read  the  contents  of  the  scroll.  There  was  not  one  good 
or  pious  word  in  it  from  beginning  to  end  !  "  In  another 
sermon  we  are  told  the  terrible  consequences  which  follow 
certain  sins  of  omission,  as  well  as  those  of  commission  ; — ■ 

What  hrfell  Four  Men  who  stole  an  Abbot's  Ox. 

"  Four  men  stole  the  ox  of  an  abbot.  The  abbot  gave 
sentence,  and  cursed  them  by  bell,  book,  and  candle. 
Three  of  the  culprits  repented  of  their  crime,  found 
mercy,  and  were  shriven.  The  fourth  died  in  his  sin, 
unannealed  and  unabsolved.  He  could  not  rest  in  his 
grave.  His  spirit  walked  the  earth  by  night,  and  all  were 
tilled  with  wild  and  unspeakable  terror  who  ventured  out 
of  their  houses  after  sunset.  It  happened  that  once  as  a 
pious  priest  went  with  the  body  of  the  Lord  to  the  bed- 
side of  a  dying  man,  the  ghost  met  him,  and  told  him  who 
he  was,  and  why  so  miserably  he  walked  the  earth.  The 
ghost  besought  the  priest  to  tell  his  widow  to  make  the 
abbot  ample  amends,  and  to  procure  absolution  for  the 
otfender ;  for  otherwise,  said  the  poor  spirit,  my  soul  will 
find  no  rest  for  ever  and  ever.    The  widow  propitiated  the 


5  2  Dr  Shaw. 


abbot.     The  abbot  removed  the  curse,  and  the  ghost  no 
more  troubled  the  glimpses  of  the  upper  air  ! " 

The  good  results  of  hearing  Mass. 

A  country  parish  priest,  once  discoursing  on  this  sub- 
ject, assured  his  congregation  that  "  on  the  day  they  hear 
the  mass,  and  assist  at  the  holy  sacrifice,  all  idle  oaths 
and  forgotten  sins  shall  be  forgiven.  On  that  day  they 
shall  not  lose  their  sight,  nor  die  a  sudden  death,  nor  wax 
aged ;  and  every  step  thitherward  and  homeward,  an 
angel  shall  reckon  !  " 

DOCTOR  SHAW. 

Stow  relates,  that  while  Richard  III.  was  protector,  it 
v/as  desired  by  that  crafty  prince  and  his  council,  that  the 
famous,  or  rather  infamous  Dr  Shaw,  should  in  a  sermon, 
at  Paul's  Cross,  from  a  text  on  the  danger  of  illegitimate 
succession,  signify  to  the  people  that  neither  King  Edward 
nor  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  nor  the  children  of  the  Duke 
of  York,  were  legally  begotten,  and  that  the  Protector 
should  come  in  at  this  period  of  the  discourse,  as  if  by 
accident,  when  the  doctor  was  to  proceed  in  these  words: 
"  But  see  the  Lord  Protector,  that  very  noble  prince,  the 
special  pattern  of  knightly  prowess,  as  well  in  all  princely 
behaviour,  as  in  the  lineaments  and  favour  in  his  visage, 
representing  the  very  face  of  the  noble  duke  his  father : 
this  is  the  father's  own  figure  \  this,  his  own  countenance, 
the  very  print  of  his  visage,  the  very  sure  undoubted  image, 
the  plain  express  likeness  of  the  noble  duke."  It  fell 
out,  however,  through  over-much  haste,  the  doctor  had 
spoken  all  this  before  the  Protector  came  in ;  yet  behold- 
ing him  enter,  he  suddenly  stopped  in  what  he  was  saying, 


Bishop  Otto  and  the  Co?isecration  Sermon.  53 

and  began  to  repeat  his  lesson  again,  "  but  see  the  Lord 
Protector,  that  very  noble  prince,"  and  so  on.  "  But  the 
people,"  says  Speed,  "  were  so  far  from  crying  King 
Richard,  that  they  stood  as  if  they  had  been  turned  into 
stones,  for  this  very  shameful  sermon." 

Bishop  Otto  and  the  Consea'ation  Sermon. 
An  interesting  and  characteristic  anecdote  is  related  of 
Bishop  Otto,  the  apostle  of  Pomerania.  He  went  to 
preach  at  Giitzkow,  a  sort  of  Pomeranian  Goodmunding- 
ham.  He  found  there  a  grand  and  stately  heathen  temple 
and  precinct ;  he  caused  it  to  be  razed  to  its  foundations, 
and  a  stately  Christian  church  to  be  reared  in  its  stead. 
The  new  building  was  now  completed,  and  ready  for  con- 
secration. The  day  for  the  holy  festival  was  fixed,  and 
the  bishop  was  to  preach  the  first  sermon.  Count  Mitz- 
lafif,  the  feudal  lord  of  the  town  and  neighbouring  district, 
appeared  to  assist  at  the  ceremony.  The  bishop  spoke  to 
him  in  affectionate  and  earnest  tones  :  "  O  great  count, 
this  consecration  is  nothing,  nor  can  I  preach  with  full 
comfort  and  energy  unless  thou  and  thy  whole  people 
consecrate  yourselves  to  the  Lord."  The  count  reverently 
replied,  "  What  can  I  do  more  %  I  have  been  baptized  at 
Usedom.  What  dost  thou  require  of  me  further?"  The 
good  bishop  replied,  "  Thou  hast  many  prisoners  taken  in 
war  whom  thou  detainest  for  their  ransom,  and  there  are 
Christians  among  them.  O  count,  release  them  !  let  this 
day  be  one  of  real  rejoicing.  Let  there  be  glory  to  God 
and  our  Saviour,  the  true  Liberator  of  mankind  ! "  Urged 
by  the  solemn  words  of  the  pious  prelate,  the  Count  Mitz- 
laff  ordered  all  the  Christian  prisoners  to  be  brought  forth 
and  set  at  liberty.     Encouraged  by  this  generous  conces- 


54  Bishop  Otto  and  the  Consecration  Sermon. 

sion,  the  bishop  continued  and  said,  "  The  poor  and  be- 
nighted heathen,  too,  are  our  brethren  !  Of  one  blood  God 
hath  created  all  men.  Let  them  also  be  set  at  liberty. 
Release  them  at  my  entreaty.  I  will  baptize  such  as  are 
worthy,  and  thus  they  wull  be  led  to  the  fold  of  the  Saviour." 
The  count  ordered  all  the  heathen  to  be  liberated  from 
servitude.  The  bishop  baptized  them.  The  wail  of  the 
penitent  mingled  with  the  tears  of  Christian  rejoicing  over 
the  conversion  of  souls,  and  the  heart  of  the  pious  multi- 
tude leapt  for  joy. 

It  was  now  thought  that  all  the  prisoners  were  released. 
The  consecration  of  the  church  was  about  to  be  completed. 
The  apparitors  and  other  servants  were  about  to  bring 
salt,  wine,  and  ashes,  as  ancient  and  symboHcal  necessaries 
to  a  solemn  dedication.  Salt  there  was  in  plenty.  Wine 
was  the  besetting  snare  and  temptation  of  every  mediaeval 
feast  of  dedication  :  of  this  there  was  no  lack.  Nobody 
ever  dreamed  that  ashes  could  be  wanting.  Where  was 
the  hearth  that  would  not  supply  ashes  %  But  unexpectedly, 
and  as  though  by  miracle,  ashes  were  not  forthcoming. 
One  house  after  another  was  searched,  but  there  were  not 
any  ashes.  While  the  attendants  were  thus  occupied,  they 
heard  the  voice  of  a  man  underground  lamenting  in  bitter 
terms.  They  made  inquiry  of  the  bystanders,  and  learned 
that  beneath  the  house  was  a  dungeon,  in  which  lay  in 
chains  a  Dane  of  illustrious  parentage,  detained  as  a  host- 
age for  five  hundred  marks  of  silver  which  his  father  owed 
to  the  count  for  some  injury  done  in  those  wild  and  ruth- 
less times.  The  good  bishop  was  duly  informed  of  the 
prisoner's  sad  condition,  but  he  durst  not  intercede  with 
the  count  on  account  of  the  magnitude  of  the  injury. 
How  could  he  trouble  any  further  the  noble  count  %     But 


Dr  Oliver  Maillard.  55 

MitzlafF  heard  the  whispering,  and  inquired.  Then  the 
servants  said  softly,  ''  Sir,  the  Dane  ! "  On  this  the  count 
started.  The  generous  effort  cost  him  much ;  yet  he  ex- 
claimed, "  He  is  my  worst  enemy,  and  ought  to  make  me 
ample  atonement ;  but  to-day  I  will  regard  no  loss.  Be  it 
so  :  release  the  Dane  also,  and  may  God  be  gracious  unto 
me."  Then  they  fetched  the  prisoner,  and  placed  him  with- 
out chains  by  the  altar.  Then  Otto  delivered  a  short  but 
admirable  discourse,  and  pronounced  the  benediction. 

OLIVER  MAILLARD. 

One  of  the  oddest,  yet  most  learned  divines  that  ever 
adorned  the  Galilean  pulpit  was  Dr  Oliver  Maillard,  who 
died  in  the  year  1502.  He  was  famous  for  the  directness 
and  personality  of  his  preaching.  He  denounced  vice 
with  extraordinary  picturesqueness  and  force.  His  por- 
traits of  character  were  as  distinct  and  recognisable  as 
paintings  in  a  gallery.  Every  department  of  church  and 
state  was  at  that  time  invaded  by  men  of  profligate  lives. 
The  monastic  system  had  produced  hypocrites  rather  than 
saints.  The  highest  offices  in  the  church  were  bought  and 
sold.  The  king,  Louis  XL,  set  an  example  of  coarse  and 
vulgar  debauchery  in  private  life,  while  he  managed  the 
people  and  cajoled  neighbouring  princes  by  methods  of 
finesse  and  double-dealing  which  have  rarely  found  a 
parallel  in  history.  His  superstition  was,  like  his  wicked- 
ness, monstrous  and  uncouth.  He  used  to  carry  a  leaden 
image  of  our  Lady  of  Clery  in  his  bonnet,  and  when 
alarmed  or  disappointed,  he  would  embrace  it  with  kisses, 
or  trample  it  in  the  dust  under  his  feet.  Such  were  the 
times  in  which  Maillard  lived  ;  yet  he  was  never  known  to 
sully  his  pen  with  flattery,  or  his  tongue  with  compromise. 


56  Dr  Oliver  Maillard. 

Bravely  upholding  virtue,  and  making  vice  ashamed,  he 
was  called  by  his  admiring  contemporaries  the  scourge  of 
sinners. 

This  zealous  divine,  preaching  one  day  before  the  par- 
liament at  Toulouse,  drew  such  an  exact  and  finished 
portrait  of  an  unjust  and  corrupt  judge,  and  the  applica- 
tion to  many  members  of  that  body  was  so  pointed,  that 
they  counselled  together  for  some  time  whether  it  would 
not  be  proper  to  arrest  him.  The  result  of  their  delibera- 
tions was  transmitted  to  the  archbishop,  who,  in  order  to 
soothe  the  resentment  of  those  who  felt  themselves  hurt, 
interdicted  Maillard  from  preaching  during  the  next  two 
years*  The  good  old  ecclesiastic  received  the  cowardly 
mandate  of  his  diocesan  with  becoming  humility.  He 
then  waited  on  the  offended  magistrates,  and  stated  his 
duty  as  a  preacher  of  the  Divine  Word  in  such  impressive 
language,  that  they  threw  themselves  alternately  on  his 
bosom,  confessed  their  crimes,  and  became  true  penitents ; 
no  longer  distorting  facts  to  gratify  the  powerful,  or  taking 
bribes  to  condemn  the  innocent. 

Maillard,  when  he  happened  to  preach  before  his  ma- 
jesty, even  took  liberties  with  the  capricious  and  despotic 
monarch  himself  When  one  of  the  courtiers  informed 
him  that  the  king  had  threatened  to  throw  him  into  the 
river,  "  The  king,"  replied  he,  "  is  my  master ;  but  you 
may  tell  him  that  I  shall  get  sooner  to  heaven  by  water 
than  he  will  by  \{\?,  post-horses''  The  king,  Louis  XI.,  had 
been  the  first  to  estabhsh  post-horses  and  posting  on  the 
roads  of  France,  the  frontier  of  which  he  had  greatly  ex- 
tended, rather  by  ingenious  and  intriguing  diplomacy  than 
by  force  of  arms.  When  this  pleasantry  was  reported  to 
him,  he  wisely  allowed  Maillard  to  preach  as  he  liked. 


Dr  Oliver  Maillard.  57 

without  danger  from  the  royal  prerogative.  The  saying 
became  a  current  jest  among  the  wits  of  the  period,  and  is 
quoted  in  the  "  Navis  Stultifera"  of  Badius.  In  the  Latin 
edition  of  Maillard's  Sermons,  published  at  Paris,  the 
words  Hem,  Hem,  are  written  in  the  margin,  to  mark  the 
places  where,  according  to  the  custom  of  those  days,  the 
preacher  was  at  liberty  to  stop  and  cough.  In  some  old 
MSS.  sermons,  the  preacher  is  recommended  to  shake  the 
crucifix,  to  hammer  on  the  pulpit  like  Satan  himself. 
These  were  devices  to  enable  him  to  collect  his  thoughts, 
if  by  chance  they  had  wandered  from  the  subject  in  hand. 

Mr  Isaac  Disraeli,  in  his  well-known  work,  "  Curiosities 
of  Literature,"  gives  the  following  charact-eristic  extracts 
from  Maillard,  and  from  Menot,  who  was  almost  his  con- 
temporary. 

''  In  attacking  rapine  and  robbery,"  says  Mr  Disraeli,  "  Mail- 
lard, under  the  first  head,  describes  a  kind  of  usury  which 
was  practised  in  the  days  of  Ben  Jonson,  and,  I  am  told, 
in  the  present  as  well  as  in  the  times  of  Maillard.  '  This,' 
says  he,  '  is  called  a  palliated  usury.  It  is  thus  :  When  a 
person  is  in  want  of  money,  he  goes  to  a  treasurer,  (a  kind 
of  banker  or  merchant,)  on  whom  he  has  an  order  for  a 
thousand  crowns.  The  treasurer  tells  him  that  he  will  pay 
him  in  a  fortnight's  time,  when  he  is  to  receive  the  money. 
The  poor  man  cannot  wait.  Our  good  treasurer  tells  him, 
"  I  will  give  you  half  in  money  and  half  in  goods."  So  he 
passes  his  goods  that  are  worth  100  crowns  for  200.'  He 
then  touches  on  the  bribes  which  these  treasurers  and 
clerks  in  office  took,  excusing  themselves  by  alleging  the 
little  pay  they  otherwise  received.  'All  these  practices 
be  sent  to  the  devils ! '  cries  Maillard,  in  thus  addressing 
himself  to   the  ladies ;  '  it  is  for  you  all  this  damnation 


58  Dr  Oliver  Mai  Hard. 

ensues.  Yes,  yes  !  you  must  have  rich  satms  and  girdles 
of  gold  out  of  this  accursed  money.  When  any  one  has 
anything  to  receive  from  the  husband,  he  must  make  a 
present  to  the  wife  of  some  iine  gown,  or  girdle,  or  ring. 
If  you  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  are  battening  on  your 
pleasures,  and  wear  scarlet  clothes,  I  believe  if  you  were 
closely  put  in  a  good  press,  we  should  see  the  blood  of  the 
poor  gush  out,  with  which  your  scarlet  is  dyed.' 

"  Maillard  notices  the  following  curious  particulars  of  the 
mode  of  cheating  in  tirade  in  his  times. 

"  He  is  violent  against  the  apothecaries  for  their  cheats. 
*  They  mix  ginger  with  cinnamon,  which  they  sell  for  real 
spices ;  they  put  their  bags  of  ginger,  pepper,  saffron, 
cinnamon,  and  other  drugs  in  damp  cellars,  that  they  may 
weigh  heavier ;  they  mix  oil  with  saffron  to  give  it  a 
colour,  and  to  make  it  weightier.'  He  does  not  forget 
those  tradesmen  who  put  water  in  their  wool,  and  moisten 
their  cloth  that  it  may  stretch  ;  tavern-keepers  who  sophis- 
ticate and  mingle  wines ;  the  butchers  who  blow  up  their 
meat,  and  who  mix  hog's  lard  with  the  fat  of  their  meat. 
He  terribly  declaims  against  those  who  buy  with  a  great 
allowance  of  measure  and  weight,  and  then  sell  with  a 
small  measure  and  weight;  and  curses  those  who,  when 
they  weigh,  press  the  scales  down  with  their  finger.  But 
it  is  time  to  conclude  with  Master  Oliver  !  His  catalogue 
is,  however,  by  no  means  exhausted  ;  and  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  observe,  that  the  present  age  has  retained  every 
one  of  the  sins. 

"  The  following  extracts  are  from  Menot's  sermons, 
which  are  written,  like  Maillard's,  in  a  barbarous  Latin, 
mixed  with  old  French. 

*' Michael  Menot  died  in  151 8.    I  think  he  has  more  wit 


Michael  Me7iot,  59 


than  Maillard,  and  occasionally  displays  a  brilliant  imagina- 
tion, with  the  same  singular  mixture  of  grave  declamation 
and  farcical  absurdities.  He  is  called  in  the  tide-page  the 
golden-to7igued.  It  runs  thus  :  Predicatoris  qui  lingua  aurea, 
sua  tempestate  7iimciissatiis  est,  Sermones  qiiadfagesitnales,  ab 
ipso  olim  Turoiiis  declafnaii.     Paris,  1525,  8vo. 

"  When  he  compares  the  Church  with  a  vine,  he  says  : 
*  There  were  once  some  Britons  and  Englishmen  who 
would  have  carried  away  all  France  into  their  country-, 
because  they  found  our  wine  better  than  their  beer ;  but 
as  they  well  knew  that  they  could  not  always  remain  in 
France, .  nor  carry  away  France  into  their  country,  they 
would  at  least  carry  with  them  several  stocks  of  vines. 
They  planted  some  in  England,  but  these  stocks  soon 
degenerated,  because  the  soil  was  not  adapted  to  them.* 
Notwithstanding  what  Menot  said  in  1500,  and  that  we 
have  tried  so  ofcen,  we  have  often  flattered  ourselves  that 
if  we  plant  vineyards,  we  may  have  English  wine. 

"  The  following  beautiful  figure  describes  those  who  live 
neglectful  of  their  aged  parents  who  had  cherished  them 
into  prosperity.  '  See  the  trees  flourish  and  recover  their 
leaves ;  it  is  their  root  that  has  produced  all,  but  when  the 
branches  are  loaded  with  flowers  and  with  fruits,  they  yield 
nothing  to  the  root.  This  is  an  image  of  those  children 
who  prefer  their  own  amusements,  and  to  game  away  their 
fortunes,  than  to  give  to  their  old  parents  that  which  they 
want.' 

"  He  acquaints  us  with  the  following  circumstances  of 
the  immorality  of  that  age.  -  *  Who  has  not  got  a  mistress 
besides  his  wife  %  The  poor  wife  eats  the  fruits  of  bitter- 
ness, and  even  makes  the  bed  for  the  mistress.'  Oaths 
were  not  unfashionable  in  his  day.     '  Since  the  world  has 


6o  Michael  Menofs  Style. 

been  the  world,  this  crime  was  never  greater.  There  were 
once  pillories  for  these  swearers  ;  but  now  this  crime  is  so 
common,  that  the  child  of  five  years  can  swear,  and  even 
the  old  dotard  of  eighty,  who  has  only  two  teeth  remain- 
ing, can  fling  out  an  oath/ 

"  On  the  power  of  the  fair  sex  of  his  day,  he  observes : 
*  A  father  says,  "  My  son  studies ;  he  must  have  a  bishopric 
or  an  abbey  of  500  livres.  Then  he  will  have  dogs,  horses, 
and  mistresses,  Hke  others."  Another  says,  "I  will  have 
my  son  placed  at  court,  and  have  many  honourable  digni- 
ties." To  succeed  well,  both  employ  the  mediation  of 
women ;  unhappily  the  Church  and  the  law  are  entirely  at 
their  disposal.  We  have  artful  Delilahs  who  shear  us  close. 
For  twelve  crowns  and  an  ell  of  velvet  given  to  a  woman, 
you  gain  the  worst  lawsuit  and  the  best  living.' 

"  In  his  last  sermon,  Menot  recapitulates  the  various 
topics  he  had  touched  on  during  Lent.  This  extract  pre- 
sents a  curious  picture,  and  a  just  notion  of  the  versatile 
talents  of  these  preachers. 

"  '  I  have  told  ecclesiastics  how  they  should  conduct  them- 
selves; not  that  they  are  ignorant  of  their  duties,  but  I 
must  ever  repeat  to  girls  not  to  suffer  themselves  to  be 
duped  by  them.  I  have  told  these  ecclesiastics  that  they 
should  imitate  the  lark ;  if  she  has  a  grain  she  does  not 
remain  idle,  but  feels  her  pleasure  in  singing,  and  in  sing- 
ing always  is  ascending  towards  heaven.  So  they  should 
not  amass,  but  elevate  the  hearts  of  all  to  God,  and  not 
do  as  the  frogs,  who  are  crying  out  day  and  night,  and 
think  they  have  a  fine  throat,  but  always  remain  fixed  in 
the  mud. 

"  '  I  have  told  the  men  of  the  law  that  they  should  have 
the  qualities  of  the  eagle.    The  first  is,  that  this  bii'd,  when 


Michael  Me  no  fs  Style.  6r 


it  flies,  fixes  its  eye  on  the  sun  ;  so  all  judges,  counsellors, 
and  attorneys,  in  judging,  writing,  and  signing,  should 
always  have  God  before  their  eyes.  And  secondly,  this 
bird  is  never  greedy ;  it  willingly  shares  its  prey  with 
others  :  so  all  lawyers,  who  are  rich  in  crowns  after  having 
had  their  bills  paid,  should  distribute  some  to  the  poor, 
particularly  when  they  are  conscious  that  their  money 
arises  from  their  prey. 

"  '  I  have  spoken  of  the  marriage  state,  but  all  that  I  have 
said  has  been  disregarded.  See  those  wretches  who  break 
the  hymeneal  chains,  and  abandon  their  wives  !  they  pass 
their  holidays  out  of  their  parishes,  because  if  they  re- 
mained at  home  they  must  have  joined  their  wives  at 
church ;  they  liked  their  prostitutes  better ;  and  it  will 
be  so  every  day  in  the  year  !  I  would  as  well  dine  with  a 
Jew  or  a  heretic,  as  with  them.  What  an  infected  place  is 
this  !  Mistress  Lubricity  has  taken  possession  of  the  whole 
city ;  look  in  every  corner,  and  you  '11  be  convinced. 

"  '  For  you,  married  women  I  if  you  have  heard  the  night- 
ingale's song,  you  must  know  that  she  sings  during  three 
months,  and  that  she  is  silent  when  she  has  young  ones. 
So  there  is  a  time  in  which  you  may  sing  and  take  your 
pleasures  in  the  marriage  state,  and  another  to  watch  your 
children.  Don't  damn  yourselves  for  them  ;  and  remem- 
ber it  would  be  better  to  see  them  drowned  than  damned. 

"  '  As  to  widoivs,  I  observe,  that  the  turtle  withdraws  and 
sighs  in  the  woods  whenever  she  has  lost  her  companion  ; 
so  must  they  retire  into  the  wood  of  the  cross,  and  having 
lost  their  temporal  husband,  take  no  other  but  Jesus  Christ. 

"  '  And,  to  close  all,  I  have  told  girls  that  they  must  fly 
from  the  company  of  men,  and  not  permit  them  to  em- 
brace,  or  even  touch  them.     Look  on  the  rose ;  it  has  a 


62  Character  of  Father  A )idrL 


delightful  odour ;  it  embalms  the  place  in  which  it  is 
placed  j  but  if  you  grasp  it  underneath,  it  will  prick  you 
till  the  blood  issues.  The  beauty  of  the  rose  is  the  beauty 
of  the  girl.  The  beauty  and  perfume  of  the  first  invites  to 
smell  and  to  handle  it,  but  when  it  is  touched  underneath 
it  pricks  shaq^ly  ;  the  beauty  of  a  girl  likewise  invites  the 
hand  ;  but  you,  my  young  ladies,  you  must  never  suffer 
this,  for  I  tell  you  that  every  man  who  does  this  designs  to 
make  you  harlots.' 

"  These  ample  extracts  may  convey  the  same  pleasure  to 
the  reader  which  I  have  received  by  collecting  them  from 
their  scarce  originals,  little  known  even  to  the  curious. 
Menot,  it  cannot  be  denied,  displays  a  poetic  imagination, 
and  a  fertility  of  conception  which  distinguishes  him  among 
his  rivals.  The  same  taste  and  popular  manner  came  into 
our  country,  and  were  suited  to  the  simplicity  of  the  age. 
In  1527,  our  Bishop  Latimer  preached  a  sermon,  in  which 
he  expresses  himself  thus :  '  Now,  ye  have  heard  what  is 
meant  by  this  first  card,  and  how  ye  ought  to  play.  I 
purpose  again  to  deal  unto  you  another  card  of  the  same 
suit :  for  they  be  so  nigh  affinity,  that  one  cannot  be  well 
played  without  the  other.'  It  is  curious  to  observe  about 
a  century  afterwards,  as  Fuller  informs  us,  that  when  a 
country  clergyman  imitated  these  familiar  allusions,  the 
taste  of  the  congregation  had  so  changed,  that  he  was  in- 
terrupted by  peals  of  laughter  ! 

"  Even  in  more  modern  times  have  Alcnot  and  Mail- 
lard  found  an  imitator  in  little  Father  Andre,  as  well 
as  others.  His  character  has  been  variously  drawn. 
He  is  by  some  represented  as  a  kind  of  buffoon  in  the 
pulpit ;  but  others  more  judiciously  observe,  that  he  only 
indulged  his  natural  genius,   and  uttered  humorous  and 


His  Use  of  Proverbs,  d^ 

lively  things,  as  the  good  father  observes  himself,  to  keep 
the  attention  of  his  audience  awake.  He  was  not  always 
laughing.  '  He  told  many  a  bold  truth,'  says  the  author 
of  Guerre  des  Atiteurs  anciens  et  moder?ies^  '  that  sent 
bishops  to  their  dioceses,  and  made  many  a  coquette  blush. 
He  possessed  the  art  of  biting  when  he  smiled  ;  and  more 
ably  combated  vice  by  his  ingenious  satire  than  by  those 
vague  apostrophes  which  no  one  takes  to  himself.  While 
others  were  straining  their  minds  to  catch  at  sublime 
thoughts  which  no  one  understood,  he  lowered  his  talents 
to  the  most  humble  situations,  and  to  the  minutest  things. 
From  them  he  drew  his  examples  and  his  comparisons  ; 
and  the  one  and  the  other  never  failed  of  success.'  Mar- 
ville  says,  that  *  his  expressions  were  full  of  shrewd  sim- 
plicity. He  made  very  free  use  of  the  most  popular  pro- 
verbs. His  comparisons  and  figures  v^'ere  always  borrowed 
from  the  most  familiar  and  lowest  things,'  To  ridicule 
effectually  the  reigning  vices,  he  would  prefer  quirks  or 
puns  to  sublime  thoughts ;  and  he  was  little  solicitous  of 
his  choice  of  expression,  so  the  things  came  home.  Gozzi, 
in  Italy,  had  the  same  poAver  in  drawing  unexpected  in- 
ferences from  vulgar  and  familiar  occurrences.  It  was 
by  this  art  Whitefield  obtained  so  many  followers.  In 
Piozzi's  '  British  Synonymes,'  vol.  ii.  p.  205,  we  have  an 
instance  of  Gozzi's  manner.  In  the  time  of  Charles  II. 
it  became  fashionable  to  introduce  humour  into  sermons. 
Sterne  seems  to  have  revived  it  in  his.  South's  sparkle 
perpetually  with  wit  and  pun.  Far  different,  however,  are 
the  characters  of  the  sublime  preachers  of  whom  the 
French  have  preserved  the  following  descriptions  : — 

"We  have  not  any  more  Bourdaloue,  La  Rue,  and  Mas- 
sillon  ;  but  the  idea  which  still  exists  of  the  manner  of  ad- 


64  Urban  Ckevreau. 


dressing  their  auditors  may  serve  instead  of  lessons.  Each 
had  his  own  pecuhar  mode,  always  adapted  to  place,  time, 
circumstance,  to  their  auditors,  their  style,  and  their  sub- 
ject. 

"  Bourdaloue,  with  a  collected  air,  had  little  action ; 
with  eyes  generally  halfclosed,  he  penetrated  the  hearts 
of  the  people  by  the  sound  of  a  voice  uniform  and 
solemn.  The  tone  with  which  a  sacred  orator  pronounced 
the  words,  Tu  est  ille  vir  !  '  Thou  art  the  man  ! '  in  sud- 
denly addressing  them  to  one  of  the  kings  of  France, 
struck  more  forcibly  than  their  application.  Madame  de 
Sevigne  describes  our  preacher  by  saying,  '  Father  Bour- 
daloue thunders  at  Notre-Dame.' 

"  La  Rue  appeared  with  the  air  of  a  prophet.  His  man- 
ner was  irresistible,  full  of  fire,  intelligence,  and  force.  He 
had  strokes  perfectly  original.  Several  old  men,  his  con- 
temporaries, still  shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  the  ex- 
pression which  he  employed  in  an  apostrophe  to  the  God 
of  vengeance,  Evaginare  gladium  tuum  ! 

"  The  person  of  Massillon  affected  his  admirers.  He 
was  seen  in  the  pulpit  with  that  air  of  simplicity,  that 
modest  demeanour,  those  eyes  humbly  declining,  those 
unstudied  gestures,  that  passionate  tone,  that  mild  counte- 
nance of  a  man  penetrated  with  his  subject,  conveying  to 
the  mind  the  most  luminous  ideas,  and  to  the  heart  the 
most  tender  emotions.  Baron,  the  tragedian,  coming  out 
from  one  of  his  sermons,  truth  forced  from  his  lips  a  con- 
fession humiliating  to  his  profession  :  '  My  friend,'  said 
he  to  one  of  his  companions,  '  this  is  an  orator  !  and  we 
are  only  actors  ! ' " 

Urban  Chevreau  was  a  French  critic  and  historian  of  the 
seventeenth  century.     He  published  a  work  called  "  Chev- 


CoUon  of  Nismes,     Barlette  of  Naples,  65 

rccana,"  Paris,  1697,  which  contains  the  following  pas- 
sage : — 

"  '  As  there  are  characters  of  pretended  valour,  so  there 
are  wits  of  false  splendour  and  little  judgment.  When  I 
was  young,  I  remember  attending  a  sermon  preached  by  a 
prelate,  who  was  celebrated  at  court  from  the  greatness  of 
his  talent.  It  was  on  the  feast  of  Mary  Magdalene.  The 
bishop  having  enlarged  much  on  the  repentance  of  Mary, 
observed  that  her  tears  had  opened  to  her  the  way  to 
heaven ;  and  that  she  had  travelled  by  water  to  a  place 
where  few  other  persons  have  gone  by  land.  It  is  left  to 
the  reader  to  determine  whether  the  expression  of  M. 
CoHon,  Bishop  of  Nismes,  is  conformable  to  the  just  rules 
of  criticism  ;  or  whether  the  expression  is  forced  and  dis- 
torted, and  equally  void  of  elegance  and  judgment." 

A  Roman  poet  once  said,  "  There  lived  many  brave 
men  before  Agamemnon."  So  there  arose  many  remark- 
able preachers  from  time  to  time  during  the  middle  ages. 
Gabriel  Barlette  was  a  Neapolitan  Dominican  in  the 
fifteenth  century.  The  following  curious  observation  is 
attributed  to  him,  as  having  been  made  in  a  sermon  on 
the  temptation  of  our  blessed  Lord  : — "After  His  victory 
over  Satan,  the  blessed  Virgin  sent  Him  the  dinner  she 
had  made  ready  for  herself — soup  and  cabbage,  spinach, 
and  perhaps  even  sardines."  Som.e  preachers  rendered 
themselves  conspicuous  by  attacking  certain  special  classes 
of  crimes.  They  were  unequal  to  the  discussion  of  other 
subjects.  John  Geminiano  excelled  in  funeral  sermons. 
Adrian  Mangosius,  the  Dutchman,  used  to  make  up  a  dis- 
course by  quotations  from  everybody  he  could  think  of — ■ 
the  Gospels,  the  Old  Testament,  St  Thomas  Aquinas,  St 
Jerome,  Virgil,  Plutarch,  Sallust,  and  Cicero.     Joseph  de 

E 


66  Jean  Rmilins  Style. 


Barzia  was  the  Bishop  of  Cadiz,  and  flourished  at  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  and  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century; 
but  he  belongs  to  the  mediaeval  type.  His  style  was  gene- 
rally denunciatory.  Jacques  Marchant,  on  the  contrary, 
who  was  a  contemporary  of  De  Barzia,  was  poetical  and 
loving.  John  Osorius  was  a  Spanish  Jesuit,  who  preached 
three  sermons  when  the  great  Armada  against  England 
was  upon  the  pomt  of  sailing;  and  three  more  upon  the 
overthrow  of  his  Spanish  friends,  and  the  return  of  the 
shattered  remains  of  the  expedition.  Jean  Raulin,  born 
at  Toul,  in  1443,  delighted  in  tracing  types  and  developing 
metaphors. 

Mr  Baring- Gould  gives  the  two  following  stories,  in  his 
own  delightful  way,  as  illustrative  of  Jean  Raulin's  style  : — 

"  The  beasts  were  once  determined  to  keep  Lent  strictly, 
and  to  begin  by  making  their  confessions.  The  Lion  was 
appointed  confessor.  First  to  be  shriven  came  the  Wolf, 
who  with  expressions  of  remorse,  acknowledged  himself  a 
grievous  sinner,  and  confessed  that  he  had — yes,  he  had — 
once  eaten  a  lamb. 

"  'Any  extenuating  circumstances'?'  asked  the  Lion. 

"*Well,  yes,  there  were,'  quoth  the  Wolf;  'for  the 
mother  who  bore  me,  and  my  ancestors  from  time  imme- 
morial, have  been  notable  lamb-eaters,  and  "  what 's  born 
in  the  bone  comes  out  in  the  flesh."  ' 

"'Quite  so,' said  the  confessor;  'your  penance  is  this, 
say  one  Pater-Noster.' 

"  The  next  to  approach  the  tribunal  of  penance  was  the 
Fox,  with  drooping  tail,  a  lachrymose  eye,  and  humble  gait. 

"  *  I  have  sinned,  father  !'  began  Reynard,  beating  his 
breast ;  '  I  have  sinned  grievously  through  my  own  fault ; 
I— I — I — yes,  I  once  did  eat  a  hen.' 


Extract  fj'oin  RaiiUn.  67 


"  *  Any  extenuating  circumstances  % '  asked  the  Lion. 

"  *  Two,'  replied  the  penitent ;  '  I  must  say,  the  fault 
was  not  quite  my  own.  The  hen  was  grossly  fat,  and  it 
roosted  within  reach.  Now,  had  she  been  an  ascetic,  and 
had  she  gone  to  sleep  in  some  tree,  I  should  never  have 
touched  her,  I  assure  you,  father.' 

"  '  There  is  some  truth  in  that,'  said  the  confessor ;  '  say 
as  penance  one  Pater  Noster.' 

''Next  came  the  Donkey,  hobbling  up  to  the  confessional, 
and  her  broken  ee-yaws !  could  be  heard  from  quite  a 
distance.  For  some  time  the  poor  brute  was  so  convulsed 
with  sobs  that  not  a  word  she  said  could  be  distinguished. 
At  last  she  gulped  forth  that  she  had  sinned  in  three 
things. 

" '  And  what  are  they  1 '  asked  the  Lion,  gruffly. 

" '  O  father  !  first  of  all,  as  I  went  along  the  roads,  I 
found  grass  and  thistles  in  the  hedges  ;  they  were  so 
tempting  that — that — that — ee-yaw,  ee-yaw ! ' 

"  '  Go  on,'  growled  the  Lion  ;  '  you  ate  them  ;  you  com- 
mitted robbery.  Vile  monster  !  I  shudder  at  the  enormity 
of  your  crime.' 

"  '  Secondly,'  continued  the  Donkey,  '  as  I  came  near  a 
monastery  one  summer's  day,  the  gates  were  wide  open  to 
air  the  cloisters;  impelled  by  curiosity,  I — I — I — ^just 
ventured  to  walk  in,  and  I  think  I  may  have  somewhat 
befouled  the  pavement.' 

"  '  What  ! '  exclaimed  the  confessor,  rising  in  his  seat, 
and  shaking  his  mane ;  '  enter  the  sanctuary  dedicated 
to  religion — you,  a  female,  knowing  that  it  is  against  the 
rules  of  the  order  that  aught  but  males  should  intrude  ;  and 
then,  too,  that  little  circumstance  about  the  pavement ! 
Go  on,'  said  the  Lion  grimly. 


68  Brother  Roger,  the  Ecstatic. 

'* '  O  father,'  sighed  the  poor  penitent ;  '  the  holy 
monks  were  all  in  chapel  and  singing  the  office.  They 
sang  so  beautifully  that  my  heart  was  lifted  up  within  me, 
and  at  the  close  of  a  collect  my  feelings  overcame  me, 
and  I  tried  to  say  amen  ;  but  produced  only  an  ee-yaw  ! 
which  interrupted  the  service,  and  hindered  the  devotion 
of  the  monks.' 

"  '  Horrible  !'  cried  the  Lion,  his  eyes  flashing  with  pious 
zeal,  his  hair  bristling  with  virtuous  indignation.  'Monster 
steeped  in  crime,  is  there  any  penance  too  great  to  inflict 
on  you  %  I — '  The  reader  may  guess  what  became  of 
the  helpless  beast." 

Some  of  these  orators  indulged  in  wild  and  fanatical 
rhapsodies.  One  Brother  Roger,  whom  Cardinal  Bona  calls 
an  ecstatic  man,  preached  once  somewhat  in  this  strain, 
"  What  dost  thou  think  will  be  if  in  thy  inward  life  God  is 
inwardly  present  ?  From  what  a  state  of  darkness  to  what 
clarities  wilt  thou  be  led  by  His  Spirit  !  If  thou  couldst 
know  those  inward  contemplations  which  are  in  the  inward 
secrets  of  the  soul,  if  those  lucid  illuminations,  if  those 
fervid  burning  splendours,  if  those  simple  uncompounded 
rays,  if  those  pure  lightnings,  if  those  vivid  enlivening 
odours,  if  those  peaceful  savours,  if  those  deUcious,  nay, 
most  delicious  sweetnesses,  if  those  unknown  and  un- 
nameable  tilings,  yet  things  experimentally  felt,  thou 
couldst  perfectly  possess  !  Ah  !  man,  if  thou  couldst  know 
these  things  by  experiment,  think  how  thou  couldst  endure 
the  darkness  of  thy  life  as  I  do.  But  when  will  it  be  % 
Dost  thou  think  that  I  shall  not  see  %  when,  when,  when  % 
All  things  are  in  delay.  These  are  the  words  of  silence. 
Ah  !  hah  !  hah  ! "  Such  is  the  untranslateable  nonsense 
of  this  abstruse    enthusiast.     Nicholas  de  Lyra  used  to 


The  Franciscafi  s  Recantation.  69 

affirm  that  our  blessed  Saviour  was  a  Minorite  friar  of  the 
order  of  St  Francis,  for  which  Luther  most  justly  rebuked 
Him. 

T/ie  Franciscan  Egan  's  Recantation  Sermon 

Contains  the  following  strange  confession  : — 

"  When  I  was  made  a  friar,  a  great  number  of  people 
were  present  at  the  solemnity.  I  appeared  in  a  spruce  garb, 
had  there  my  horse,  my  sword  and  pistols,  and  appeared 
with  much  gaiety  and  splendour.  The  head  of  the  con- 
vent advised  the  people  to  take  notice  of  my  pompous 
condition,  and  that  I  was  willing  to  lay  aside  all  those 
outward  glories  for  St  Francis,  his  sake ;  and  accordingly 
I  disrobed  myself,  and  put  on  the  mean  garments  which 
belonged  to  the  order,  and  then  made  three  vows  of 
obedience^  poverty.,  and  chastity.  After  that,  took  one  and 
twenty  oaths.  Now,  in  the  oaths  I  swore  never  to  come 
on  horseback ;  never  to  wear  shoes;  to  obey  my  superior 
in  whatever  he  commanded  me,  without  examining  the 
lawfulness  of  his  commands  ;  not  to  be  ashamed  to  beg ; 
never  to  be  out  of  my  friar's  habit.  But  that  which  was  a 
cause  of  disgust  at  that  time  unto  me  was  this  :  The  supe- 
rior tells  me  that  I  must  take  my  former  garments,  that  is, 
return  in  the  same  posture  I  came,  and  go  see  my  friends ; 
and  though  all  these  things  were  against  my  oaths,  yet  he 
would  ABSOLVE  me  from  them.  And  this  is  the  state  ot 
all  the  Irish  friars." — Recantation  Sermon  of  Anthony  Egan, 
entitled  the  Franciscan  Convert,  preached  at  London^  1673. 

Early  Mediceval  Preachers. 
There  is  reason  to  beheve  that  the  revival  of  the  use  of 
funeral   sermons,   which   had  been   discontinued   during 


yo  Fimeral  Orations. 


many  ages,  on  account  of  the  scarcity  of  orators,  contri- 
buted not  a  little  to  the  improvement  of  preaching.  Be- 
tween the  funeral  oration  delivered  over  the  remains  of  St 
Honoratus,  Bishop  of  Aries,  by  St  Hilary,  his  successor, 
in  413,  no  such  oration  was  preached  until  that  over 
Wilham  the  Conqueror,  in  1087,  by  Gilbert  of  Evreux. 
The  public  taste  for  this  sort  of  eloquence  was  fostered  by, 
if  not  derived  from,  the  custom  of  reciting  poetical  elegies 
over  the  dead.  In  the  twelfth  century,  funeral  sermons 
were  multiplied  everywhere.  Leger,  archbishop  of  Bourges, 
preached  that  of  Robert  Arbriscesle,  in  February  11 17. 
Pope  Gelasius  II.,  having  died  at  Cluny  in  11 19,  Peter  of 
Poitiers,  monk  of  that  abbey,  honoured  his  obsequies  by 
a  discourse  which  Muratori  has  preserved.  The  present 
volume  contains  extracts  from  that  pronounced  in  1138  by 
St  Bernard  to  the  memory  of  his  brother  Gerard,  who  had 
been  a  monk  of  Clairvaux.  In  1148,  St  Bernard  delivered 
that  of  St  Malachy,  primate  of  Ireland,  who  died  at  Clair- 
vaux in  the  same  year.  These  orations  have  been  justly 
thought  worthy  of  a  comparison  with  the  finest  specimens 
of  Greek  and  Roman  eloquence.  It  appears  that  from 
France  the  custom  passed  into  Germany ;  for  Imbricon, 
bishop  of  Wirtzburg,  preached  at  the  funeral  of  St  Otto, 
Bishop  of  Bamberg,  who  died  in  1139. 

This  custom  had  a  manifest  tendency  to  improve  the 
ordinary  preaching  of  God's  holy  Word.  Robert  d'Arbris- 
cesle  and  his  companions,  Bernard  de  Tiron,  Vital  de 
Mortain  or  de  Savigne,  Raoul  de  la  Futaie,  especially 
distinguished  themselves.  Gerard  de  la  Sale  roused  the 
people  of  Aquitaine  to  repentance.  The  foundation  of 
many  monasteries  attested  the  success  of  their  ministry, — 
in    Languedoc,   in    Poitou,    in    Limousin,   in    Perigord. 


MiloJi  of  Poitiers^  the  Crusader.  7 1 


Vital  having  preached  in  11 19  at  the  Council  of  Rheims, 
Pope  Calixtus  II.,  who  was  present,  declared  that  no  one 
had  ever  so  well  represented  to  him  the  duties  of  the 
sovereign  pontiff.  On  the  other  hand,  St  Norbert,  and 
Hugo,  his  first  companion,  busied  themselves  not  only  in 
preaching,  but  in  forming  the  style  and  method  of  other 
preachers.  Roger,  first  the  scholar,  and  afterwards  the 
companion,  of  the  same  St  Norbert,  was  remarkable  for  his 
force  and  unction.  Erlebaud,  dean  of  Cambrai,  is  remem- 
bered for  his  wonderful  knowledge  of  holy  Scripture. 
Young  monks  began  to  preach  to  their  brethren  in  the 
cloister.  There  they  acquired  fluency  and  confidence. 
From  thence  they  set  out  to  address  kings  upon  their 
thrones,  vast  congregations  in  cathedrals  and  in  the  open 
air ;  while  some  accompanied  the  Crusaders,  raising  their 
courage  to  frenzy  before  battle,  sustaining  it  in  defeat,  and 
often  reheving  the  tedium  of  a  march  through  deserts  or 
hostile  lands.  Such  was  Milon,  a  Cistertian  of  the  diocese 
of  Poitiers,  whom  Richard  the  Lion-hearted  took  with  him 
to  the  Holy  Land.  Any  one  wishing  to  examine  closely 
the  literary  history  of  the  pulpit  in  France  and  other 
neighbouring  countries  during  the  twelfth  century,  may 
consult  with  advantage  an  elaborate  work  entitled  "  His- 
toire  literaire  de  la  France  ou  Ton  traite  de  I'origine 
et  du  Progres,  de  la  Decadence  et  du  retablissement  des 
Sciences  parmi  les  Gaulois  et  parmi  les  Francois ;  du  gout 
et  du  ge'nie  des  uns  et  des  autres  pour  les  Letres  en 
chaque  siecle ;  de  leurs  anciennes  Ecoles ;  de  I'etabHsse- 
ment  des  Universites  en  France  j  des  principaux  Colleges  ; 
des  Acade'mies  des  Sciences  et  Belles-Letres  ;  des  meill- 
cures  Bibhotheques  anciennes  et  modernes ;  des  plus 
celebres  Imprimeries ;  et  de  tout  ce  qui  a  un  rapport  par- 


72  Martin  Luther. 


ticulier  a  la  Literature.     Par  des  Religieux  Benedictins  de 
la  Congregation  de  S.  Maur.     A  Paris.     1750."     (sic.) 

FATHER  MARTIN  LUTHER. 

The  illustrious  monk  of  Wittemburg,  in  the  following 
caustic  observations,  seems  to  point  out  an  evil  method  of 
preaching  in  which  the  German  pulpit  orators  of  the  ante- 
Reformation  period  more  or  less  indulged.  He  denounces 
the  preachers  who  aimed  "at  sublimity,  difficulty,  and 
eloquence ;  who,  neglecting  the  souls  of  the  poor,  sought 
their  own  praise  and  honour,  and  to  please  one  or  two 
persons  of  consequence." 

'-^  When  a  man,"  says  Luther,  "  comes  into  the  pulpit  for 
the  first  time,  he  is  much  perplexed  by  the  number  of 
heads  before  him.  When  I  ascend  the  pulpit,  I  see  no 
heads,  but  imagine  those  that  are  before  me  to  be  all 
blocks.  When  I  preach  I  sink  myself  deeply  down;  I 
regard  neither  doctors  nor  masters,  of  which  there  are  in 
the  church  above  forty.  But  I  have  an  eye  to  the  m_ulti- 
tude  of  young  people,  children,  and  servants,  of  which 
there  are  more  than  two  thousand.  I  preach  to  them.  I 
direct  my  discourse  to  those  that  have  need  of  it.  A 
preacher  should  be  a  logician  and  a  rhetorician ;  that  is, 
he  must  be  able  to  teach  and  to  admonish.  When  he 
preaches  on  any  article  he  must  first  distinguish  it,  then 
define,  describe^  and  show  what  it  is ;  thirdly,  he  must 
produce  sentences  from  the  Scripture  to  prove  and  to 
strengthen  it ;  fourthl}^,  he  must  explain  it  by  examples ; 
fifthly,  he  must  adorn  it  with  similitudes  ;  and  lastly,  he 
must  admonish  and  arouse  the  indolent,  correct  the  dis- 
obedient, and  reprove  the  authors  of  false  doctrine." 

A  quaint  parallel  to  this  counsel  of  Luther  is  to  be  found 


Ig?ioraHce  of  the  Monks.  73 


in  an  anecdote  told  of  an  old  Yorkshire  clergyman.  A 
friend  asked  him  if  he  studied  \h^  fathers  before  he  began 
to  write  his  sermons.  "  No,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  rather  study 
the  inoihers^  for  they  have  the  greater  need  of  comfort  and 
encouragement." 

The  Spaniards  have  a  proverb  which  sarcastically  de- 
scribes preachers  fond  of  high-sounding  words  without 
meaning.  It  is  derived  from  the  Arabic,  and  came  to  Spain 
through  the  Moors.  It  represents  such  preachers  as  mills, 
of  which  we  hear  the  clatter,  but  from  which  we  never  obtain 
any  flour. 

Monkish  Error. 
The  ignorance  wiiich  prevailed  in  reference  to  the  Scrip- 
tures when  Luther  was  raised  up  of  God  to  reform  the 
Church,  in  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was  in- 
deed surprising.  Conrad  of  Heresbach,  a  grave  author  of 
that  age,  relates  a  fact  of  a  monk  saying  to  his  companions, 
"They  have  invented  a  new  language,  which  they  call  Greek : 
you  must  be  carefully  on  your  guard  against  it;  it  is  the  mother 
of  all  heresy.  I  observe  in  the  hands  of  many  persons  a 
book  written  in  that  language,  and  which  they  call  the  New 
Testament :  it  is  a  book  full  of  daggers  and  poison.  As  to 
the  Hebrew,  my  brethren,  it  is  certain  that  whoever  learns 
it  becomes  immediately  a  Jew." 

Ignorance  of  Monks. 
It  is  very  affecting  to  contemplate  the  ignorance  which 
existed  in  Europe  before  printing  was  introduced.  Stephanus 
relates  an  anecdote  of  a  certain  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne, 
who,  speaking  of  the  Reformers,  expressed  his  surprise  at 
their  mode  of  reasoning,  by  exclaiming,  "  I  wonder  whjf 


74  Frede7'ic  the  Wise. 


these  youths  are  always  quoting  the  New  Testament.  I 
was  more  than  fifty  years  old  before  I  knew  anything  of  a 
New  Testament."  And  Albert,  Archbishop  and  Elector  of 
Mentz,  in  the  year  1530,  accidentally  meeting  with  a  Bible, 
opened  it,  and  having  read  some  pages,  observed,  "Indeed 
I  do  not  know  what  this  book  is  ;  but  this  I  see,  that  every- 
thing in  it  is  against  us."  Even  Carolastadius,  who  was 
afterwards  one  of  the  Reformers,  acknowledged  that  he 
never  began  to  read  the  Bible  till  eight  years  after  he  had 
taken  his  highest  degree  in  divinity.  Many  other  equally 
striking  facts  might  be  introduced,  illustrative  of  the  igno- 
rance of  the  Scriptures  which  prevailed  at  that  time. 

FREDERIC  THE  WISE,  ELECTOR  OF  SAXONY, 

When  conversing  one  day  with  Staupitz,  the  Vicar-Gene- 
ral, about  the  monks  and  friars  who  filled  their  sermons 
with  emptiness,  is  said  to  have  made  the  following  pro- 
found observations  :  *'  All  discourses  that  are  filled  only 
with  subtleties  and  human  traditions,  are  wonderfully  cold 
and  unimpressive  ;  since  no  subtlety  can  be  advanced  that 
another  subtlety  cannot  overthrow.  The  Holy  Scriptures 
alone  are  clothed  with  such  power  and  majesty,  that, 
destroying  all  our  learned  reasoning-machines,  they  press 
us  close,  and  compel  us  to  say  :  *  Never  man  spake  like 
this  man.' "  Staupitz  having  expressed  himself  entirely  of 
that  opinion,  the  Elector  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand, 
and  said,  "  Promise  me  that  you  will  always  think  the 
same."  An  eminent  judge  was  asked  why  he  never  at- 
tended the  Temple  Church  where  the  Reverend  Theyre 
Smith,  Canon  Benson,  and  other  distinguished  divines 
preached  wonderful  sermons  about  twenty  years  ago.  The 
judge  preferred  to  attend  the  ministry  of  a  pious,  but  some- 


Francis  Coster, 


15 


what  weak-minded,  clergyman  of  so-called  evangelical 
sentiments.  He  replied,  "  If  I  go  to  the  Temple  Church, 
I  hear  an  argument  on  some  point  of  the  external  or  in- 
ternal evidence  of  Christianity,  some  defence  of  the 
doctrine  of  a  divine  moral  government.  I  remember  the 
days  when  I  was  a  barrister  on  circuit,  and  I  cannot  help 
thinking  that  a  good  case  might  be  made  out  on  the  other 
side.  When  I  kneel  down  to  pray  to  my  Maker,  my  dis- 
tress at  such  thoughts  is  intolerable,  so  I  attend  the 
preaching  of  Dr  So-so,  who,  without  argument,  tells  me  in 
a  simple  strain,  which  requires  no  mental  effort  on  my  part, 
that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners." 

FRANCIS  COSTER,   153I-1619, 

Mr  Gould  has  collected  several  beautiful  specimens  of 
what  may  be  called  the  parable  and  story-telling  style  of 
preaching,  adopted  by  some  of  the  mediaeval  clergy,  as 
best  adapted  to  congregations,  the  greater  part  of  whom 
could  not  read,  and  who  required  the  simplest  and  most 
elementary  food  for  their  souls.  Among  these  examples, 
the  following  is  conspicuous.  What  an  effect  its  utterance 
must  have  had  on  the  delicate  fibres  of  a  good  child's 
heart !  Let  Mr  Gould  tell  the  story  in  his  own  ingenious 
way  : — 

"  There  is,"  says  he,  "  one  delightful  mediaeval  tale  re- 
produced by  him  which  I  shall  venture  to  relate,  as  it  is 
full  of  beauty,  and  inculcates  a  wholesome  lesson.  There 
is  a  ballad  in  German  on  the  subject,  to  be  found  in  Pocci 
and  Gores'  Fest  Ka/e/idar,  which  has  been  translated  into 
English,  and  published  in  some  Roman  Catholic  children's 
books. 

"  The  story  was,  I  believe,  originated  by  Anthony  of 


76  Francis  Coster  s  Story. 

Sienna,  who  relates  it  in  his  chronicle  of  the  Dominican 
order ;  and  it  was  from  him  that  the  preachers  and  writers 
of  the  Middle  Ages  drew  the  incident.  With  the  reader's 
permission,  I  will  tell  the  story  in  my  own  words,  instead 
of  giving  the  stiff  and  dry  record  found  in  Coster. 

"  There  was  once  a  good  priest  who  served  a  church  in 
Lusitania  ;  and  he  had  two  pupils,  little  boys,  who  came 
to  him  daily  to  learn  their  letters,  and  to  be  instructed  in 
the  Latin  tongue. 

"  Now  these  children  were  wont  to  come  early  from 
home,  and  to  assist  at  mass,  before  ever  they  ate  their 
breakfast  or  said  their  lessons.  And  thus  was  each  day 
sanctified  to  them,  and  each  day  saw  them  grow  in  grace 
and  in  favour  with  God  and  man. 

"  These  little  ones  were  taught  to  serve  at  the  Holy 
Sacrifice,  and  they  performed  their  parts  with  care  and 
reverence.  They  knelt  and  responded,  they  raised  the 
priest's  chasuble  and  kissed  its  hem,  they  rang  the  bell  at 
the  sanctus  and  the  "elevation  ;  and  all  they  did  they  did 
right  well. 

"  And  when  mass  was  over  they  extinguished  the  altar 
lights  ;  and  then,  taking  their  little  loaf  and  can  of  milk, 
retired  to  a  side  chapel  for  their  breakfast. 

"  One  day  the  elder  lad  said  to  his  master — 

"  '  Good  father,  who  is  the  strange  child  who  visits  us 
every  morning  when  we  break  our  fast    ' 

"  '  I  know  not,'  answered  the  priest.  And  when  the 
children  asked  the  same  question  day  by  day,  the  old  man 
wondered,  and  said,  '  Of  what  sort  is  he  ?' 

"  '■  He  is  dressed  in  a  white  robe  without  seam,  and  it 
reacheth  from  his  neck  to  his  feet.' 

*'  '  Whence  cometh  he]' 


Francis  Coster  s  Story.  77 


"  '  He  steppetli  down  to  us  suddenly,  as  it  were,  from 
the  altar.  And  we  asked  him  to  share  our  food  with  us  : 
and  that  he  doth  right  willingly  every  morning.' 

"■  Then  the  priest  wondered  yet  more,  and  he  asked, 

*  Are  there  marks  by  which  I  should  know  him,  were  I  to 
see  him  % ' 

"  '  Yes,  father ;  he  hath  wounds  in  his  hands  and  feet ; 
and  as  we  give  him  of  our  food  the  blood  flows  forth 
and  moistens  the  bread  in  his  hands,  till  it  blushes  like  a 
rose.' 

"  And  when  the  master  heard  this,  a  great  awe  fell  upon 
him,  and  he  was  silent  awhile.    But  at  last  he  said  gravely, 

*  O  my  sons,  know  that  the  Holy  Child,  Jesus,  hath  been 
with  you.  Now  when  He  cometh  again,  say  to  Him, 
Thou,  O  Lord,  hast  breakfasted  with  us  full  often  ; 
grant  that  we  brothers  and  our  dear  master  may  sup  with 
Thee.' 

"  And  the  children  did  as  the  priest  bade  them.  The 
Child  Jesus  smiled  sweetly,  as  they  made  the  request,  and 
replied,  *  Be  it  so ;  on  Thursday  next,  the  Day  of  My 
Ascension,  ye  shall  sup  with  Me.' 

"  So  when  Ascension  Day  arrived,  the  Httle  ones  came 
very  early  as  usual,  but  they  brought  not  their  loaf  nor 
the  tin  of  milk.  And  they  assisted  at  mass  as  usual ;  they 
vested  the  priest,  they  lighted  the  tapers,  they  chanted  the 
responds,  they  rang  the  bell.  But  when  the  Pax  Vohiscum 
had  been  said  they  remained  on  their  knees,  kneeling  be- 
hind the  priest.  And  so  they  gently  fell  asleep  in  Christ, 
and  they,  with  their  dear  master,  sat  down  at  the  marriage 
supper  of  the  Lamb." 


78  Thomas  Briiickeriiick. 

A  Good  Pastor. 

The  following  quaint  description  of  a  good  pastor  is 
found  in  a  sermon  belonging  to  this  period  : — 

"  A  spiritual  pastor,  like  a  real  shepherd,  should  carry 
bread  and  salt  in  a  bag,  that  is,  the  bread  of  good  life  and 
discretion  ;  he  should  use  water  for  drink,  that  is,  living 
water ;  he  should  eat  green  herbs,  that  is,  have  provision 
of  good  examples  ;  he  should  keep  a  dog  to  guard  the 
sheep,  that  is,  a  learned  tongue  ;  he  should  wear  coarse 
raiment,  and  a  leathern  girdle,  indicating  that  he  despises 
earthly  pleasures  and  subdues  the  flesh ;  he  should  sleep 
under  a  low  roof,  implying  that  he  has  no  abiding  city, 
but  sighs  after  heaven  ;  he  should  have  straw  for  his  bed, 
as  significative  of  living  an  austere  life  j  and  trees  and 
leaves  for  sheets  in  bed,  representing  the  words  of  Scrip- 
ture which  are  his  covering  and  defence  ;  he  should  have 
a  crook  for  a  staff,  as  implying  his  dependence  on  the 
cross  ;  a  pipe  to  play  on  to  collect  the  flock,  denoting  the 
voice  of  praise  and  prayer ;  and  a  sling  for  the  wolf,  to 
signify  the  justice  with  which  he  may  put  to  flight  the 
devil." 

THOMAS  BRINCKERINCK, 

Confessor  to  the  Beguines,  was  a  celebrated  Dutch 
preacher  of  the  fourteenth  century.  "  Once,"  says  Thomas 
k  Kempis,  ''  he  was  preaching  on  the  circumcision,  and 
treating  most  sweetly  of  the  name  of  JesuSj  exalting  this 
blessed  and  delicious  name  above  all  things  in  heaven  and 
earth.  At  length,  he  condescended  to  rebuke  some  foolish 
and  secular  men,  because,  woe  is  me  !  they  spake  less  re- 
verently, nay,  and  even  jokingly,  of  that  holy  and  inviol- 
able name.     And  he  exclaimed  and  said,  '  There  are  some 


Father  SegJieri,  the  Jesuit  79 

who  cry  with  a  contemptuous  sneer.  Ho,  ho  !  Jesus  is  the 
God  of  the  Beguines  !  Fools  and  miserable  men  !  Jesus 
the  God  of  the  Beguines  ?  Then,  pray,  who  is  your  God  % 
Truly,  it  is  the  devil.  To  us  this  holy  name  is  a  great 
honour,  and  a  singular  joy.  Over  and  over  again  our 
brethren  name  Jesus  ;  above  all  other  things  they  worship 
Jesus ;  before  and  above  the  names  of  all  the  saints,  they 
love  and  adore  Jesus,  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  whom  ye 
deride  and  despise.  True  it  is  that  the  brothers  and  the 
Beguines  do  name  Jesus  wiUingly — do  laud  Him  devoutly 
— do  salute  each  other  in  His  name.  And  woe  to  you, 
who  have  the  devil  in  your  mouths  oftener  than  Jesus  ! 
He  is  too  lowly  and  despised  to  please  you.'  Thus 
speedily,"  adds  Thomas,  "  he  gladdened  the  lovers  of 
Jesus,  and  confounded  His  deriders  according  to  their 
deserts." 

FATHER  SEGNERI,    THE  JESUIT,  THE  WHITEFIELD  OF  ITALY. 

This  celebrated  preacher  belongs  in  style  and  character 
to  the  ante-Reformation  period,  although  he  did  not  die  till 
1694.  The  revival  of  classical  learning,  the  new  interest 
awakened  for  the  antiquities  of  the  Augustan  age  of  Roman 
art,  had  reacted  on  the  Italian  pulpit.  Men  arose  who 
were  almost  ready  to  call  Our  Blessed  Saviour  Jove,  and 
St  Paul  Mercurius.  Hardouin,  the  Jesuit,  contended  that 
the  Odes  of  Horace  were  written  by  some  Benedictine 
monk,  and  thatLalage  herself  was  nothing  more  than  a  poet- 
ical symbol  of  the  Christian  faith.  On  this  Boileau  is  said 
to  have  observed,  "I  am  no  great  admirer  of  monks,  but 
I  should  like  to  have  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Sir  Virgil 
and  brother  Horace."  Segneri  led  the  way  in  promoting  a 
nobler,  because  more  scriptural,  method.     He  has  been 


8o  Father  Seg?ieri,  the  Jesuit. 


called  the  restorer  of  Italian  eloquence.  He  set  before 
himself  St  Chrysostom  as  his  model.  In  his  life  he  was 
austere  and  pure.  He  may  be  compared  to  George  White- 
field  for  the  bold  and  original  force  with  which  he  de- 
nounced the  crying  sins  of  the  notorious  age  in  which  he 
lived  ;  when  popes  were  distinguished  for  profligacy,  when 
justice  seemed  to  have  departed  from  the  world ;  when 
the  whole  fabric  of  society  was  tottering.  The  invention 
of  printing,  and  the  discovery  of  the  new  world,  seemed  to 
invite  speculation,  if  they  did  not  encourage  infideUty. 
Old  superstitions,  hallowed  by  the  prescription  of  a  thou- 
sand years,  suddenly  collapsed  and  crumbled  into  dust. 
The  weightiest  truths  trembled  in  the  balance  of  popular 
thought.  At  such  a  crisis,  Segneri  appeared.  He  boldly 
stood  on  the  ancient  paths.  "  He  preached,  not  argued  : 
conscience  did  the  rest."     Hear  how  he  discourses  on 

The  Everlasting  Burnings. 
"  What  then,  after  all,  have  I  this  morning  to  do,  but  pour 
forth  two  copious  streams  of  inconsolable  grief  for  the 
many  souls  who  see  hell  open  before  them,  and  yet  do 
not  draw  back,  but  boldly  press  on  to  launch  themselves 
into  its  flames  ?  Ah,  no  :  stop,  ye  wretched  beings,  for  a 
moment ;  stop  ! — and,  before  plunging  with  a  headlong 
leap  into  that  abyss,  let  me  demand  of  you,  in  the  words 
of  the  same  Isaiah — Which  of  you  can  dwell  with  the  de- 
vouring fire  ?  Which  of  you  cafi  dwell  with  everlasting 
burnings^  (xxxiii.  14,  Vulg.)  Excuse  me,  my  people;  for 
this  once  you  are  not  to  leave  the  church  unless  you  have 
first  made  a  satisfactory  reply  to  my  demand —  Which  of 
you  can  dwell  with  everlasting  burnings  1  What  say  est 
thou,  O  lady,  who  art  so  tender  in  cherishing  thy  flesh?-^ 


Father  Segneri,  the  Jestiit. 


Canst  thou  dwell  ivith  everlasting  burnings  I  Now  thou 
canst  not  bear  it,  should  the  point  of  a  needle  at  thy  work 
lightly  stain  thy  delicate  skin.  How  thinkest  thou  then? 
Wilt  thou  be  able  to  endure  those  terrific  engines  by  which 
thou  must  feel  thyself  dismembered,  disjointed,  and  with 
an  everlasting  butchery  crushed  into  powder  ?  What  sayest 
thou,  O  man,  who  art  so  intent  on  providing  for  thy  per- 
sonal comforts  % — Canst  thou  dwell  ivith  everlasting  burn- 
ings ?  Now  thou  canst  not  tolerate  the  breath  of  a  poor 
man,  who,  by  coming  near  thee,  in  the  least  offends  thy 
organs  of  smell.  Wilt  thou  be  able  to  stand  those  foul 
stenches,  by  which  thou  must  feel  thyself  poisoned,  stifled, 
and  with  an  everlasting  suffocation  pressed  down  to  the 
ground  ]  And  thou,  what  sayest  thou  for  thyself,  O  priest, 
who  art  so  negligent  in  the  discharge  of  thy  duties  1 — Canst 
thou  dwell  with  everlasting  burnings  "i  Now  thou  art  not 
able  to  remain  in  the  choir  of  thy  church  a  single  hour 
without  looking  indecently  about  thee,  without  being  rest- 
less, without  indulging  thy  tongue  in  every  kind  of  gossip. 
How  then  does  it  strike  theel  Wilt  thou  be  able  to 
remain  through  all  the  ages  of  eternity,  I  say  not,  reclining 
on  thy  elegantly-carved  stall,  but  rather  stretched  out  on 
an  iron  framework,  on  a  bed  of  flames,  there  to  be  Hsten- 
ing  to  the  demon's  howls  ringing  in  thy  ears  %  What  sayest 
thou,  O  glutton  %  What  sayest  thou,  O  slanderer  %  What 
sayest  thou,  O  libertine?— thou  young  man,  luxuriating  so 
wantonly  in  all  thy  heart's  desires  ? — Canst  thou  divell  with 
everlasting  burnings  ?  Alas  !  who,  who  among  us  can  ? 
And  yet,  why  do  I  thus  enlarge  on  the  case  of  other  people  ? 
Excuse  me  :  of  myself,  of  myself  I  ought  to  speak ;  of 
myself,  an  ecclesiastic  it  is  true,  as  cannot  be  denied  from 
my  dress,  and  yet  a  wretched  creature,  so  ur mortified,  so 


1 


82  Father  Segneri,  the  Jesuit. 

headstrong,  so  vain,  so  averse  to  that  true  penitence,  which 
my  sins  demand  of  me  !  If  I  am  not  able  to  remain  for  a 
short  time  before  the  presence  of  my  Lord  in  tears  for  my 
sins,  if  I  am  so  fond  of  my  own  ease,  if  I  am  so  studious 
of  my  own  reputation,  how  can  I  hereafter,  wretch  that  I 
am,  stand  fixed  for  ever  and  ever  at  the  feet  of  Lucifer, 
the  place  assigned  to  such  as  myself,  to  such  as  having 
undertaken  to  confer  benefits  on  other  men,  and  been 
gifted  accordingly  for  that  purpose  with  so  much  light  and 
knowledge,  and  so  many  endowments,  have  betrayed  my 
vow  by  my  actions  %  Ah,  Lord,  have  pity,  have  pity  ! 
We  have  sinned  ;  we  know  it ;  we  confess  it.  '  We  have 
done  ungodly,  we  have  dealt  unrighteously  in  all  thy  ordin- 
ances,' (Baruch  ii.  12.)  And  therefore  we  cannot  make 
bold  to  ask  Thee  not  to  punish  us.  Punish  us,  then,  since 
we  well  deserve  it.  Reivai-d  the  proud  after  their  deserving^ 
(Ps.  xciv.  2.)  Only,  in  Thine  infinite  mercy,  may  it  please 
Thee  not  to  sentence  our  souls  to  hell.  O  hell,  O  hell, 
the  mere  mention  of  thee  is  enough  to  overwhelm  us  with 
horror  !  This  is  the  punishment  from  which,  not  for  our 
merit's  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  Thy  agony,  for  the  sake 
of  Thy  bloody  sweat,  we  entreat  Thee  to  deliver  us.  O 
Lord,  correct  7ne,  but  with  judg7Jieiit ;  not  iii  Thine  anger,  lest 
Thou  bri7ig  me  to  nothing^  (Jer.  x.  24.)  Behold  us  willing 
to  suffer  in  this  life  the  worst  it  may  please  Thee  to  bring 
upon  us.  |Here,  put  us  to  pain  ;  here,  chastise  us  ;  here,  lay 
Thy  rod  upon  us :  "  Consume  us  here,  cut  us  to  pieces 
here  ;  only  spare  us  in  eternity,"  (S.  Augustine.)  Send  us 
poverty  now,  that  we  may  be  spared  in  eternity.  Send 
us  reproach  now,  that  we  may  be  spared  in  eternity. 
Send  us  sickness  now,  that  we  may  be  spared  in  eternity. 
Send  us  just  as  many  evils  as  may  please  Thee,  in  this 


Father  Scgncri,  the  Jesuit.  83 

world,  provided  we  be  spared  for  ever  in  the  world  to 
come — that  we  may  be  spared  in  eternity,  that  we  may  be 
spared  in  eternity." 

Take  also  the  following  description  of 

The  SottPs  Flight  from  Earth  to  Heaven, 
"  Let  all  here  present  determine  to  decline  accepting 
whatsoever  the  earth  has  to  offer  us ;  and,  lifting  up  at 
last  our  eyes  to  heaven,  let  us  say,  Glorious  things.,  yes 
assuredly,  ^/(^r/^^/j  things  are  written  of  thee,  thou  city  of  God! 
(Ps.  Ixxxvii.  3.) 

"  But  how  am  I  grieved  that  I  should  have  been  so  slow 
to  learn  these  glorious  things  that  are  written  of  thee  2  If, 
however,  I  once  so  basely  preferred  the  earth,  it  was  not 
for  Thy  demerit ;  it  only  arose  from  this,  that  I  knew 
Thee  not.  But  now  who  shall  ever  prevail  to  shut  Thee 
out  from  my  heart?  Shall  tribulatioft  ?  (Rom.  viii.  35  ;) 
not  so  ;  for  thou  shalt  change  it  for  me  into  the  sweetest 
contentments.  Shall  distress  ? — not  so ;  for  Thou  shalt 
transform  it  for  me  into  the  most  perfect  peace.  Shall 
hunger  ? — not  so  ;  for  Thou  shalt  satisfy  it  for  me  with  a 
most  luscious  nectar.  Shall  nakedness  ? — not  so ;  for 
Thou  shalt  cover  it  for  me  with  royal  apparel.  Shall 
peril  "2 — not  so ;  for  Thou  shalt  turn  it  for  me  into  immove- 
able security.  Shall  persecution  2 — not  so ;  for  Thou  shalt 
recompense  it  to  me  with  a  glorious  triumph.  Shall  the 
sword  2 — no,  no ;  not  even  the  sword  shall  ever  cut  me 
away  from  thee,  my  beautiful  celestial  country  :  not  even 
the  sword,  I  say  ;  for  Thou  shalt  convert  its  steel  into  gold, 
its  point  into  rays  of  light,  its  circling  edge  into  a  crown 
of  rejoicing !" 


84  Father  Faber's  Story. 


FATHER  FABER, 

Once  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  in  his  work 
on  (Roman)  Catholic  Home  Missions,  narrates  the  fol- 
lowing story,  thoroughly  characteristic  of  mediaeval  preach- 
ing and  work  : — 

Once  upon  a  time,  as  story-tellers  say,  there  was  a  great 
missioner  in  France,  of  the  name  of  Morcain.  Now  it 
came  to  pass  that  this  great  missioner  was  going  to  give 
a  mission  in  a  certain  French  town,  whose  inhabitants 
were  very  much  opposed  to  missions.  The  devil  did  not 
at  all  relish  the  prospect  of  the  aforesaid  M.  Morcain  ; 
and,  after  due  deliberation,  entered  into  the  ouvriers  of 
this  French  town,  and  inspired  them  with  a  design  quite 
worthy  of  himself.  They  met  together,  and  they  were  not 
few  in  number,  and  they  set  out  with  their  arms  bare,  and 
their  teddytiler  caps  upon  their  heads,  as  nice  a  specimen 
of  sansculottism  as  may  well  be  conceived.  The  reader 
may  divine  the  interior  life  of  this  procession,  which 
marched  out  to  salute  in  somewhat  peculiar  fashion  the 
approaching  missionary.  They  advanced  along  the  road 
chanting  a  parody  of  the  popular  song : — 

"  C'est  I'amour,  I'amour,  I'amour, 
Qui  mene  le  monde  a  la  ronde," 
to  this  effect — 

*'  C'est  le  Morcain,  le  Morcain,  le  Morcain, 
Qui  damne  le  monde  k  la  ronde." 

The  unsuspecting  missioner  came  quietly  along  in  his 
vehicle,  very  likely  getting  up  his  evening  discourse,  when 
lo  and  behold,  he  is  in  the  middle  of  this  delectable  crowd. 
However,  a  Frenchman  is  not  often  at  fault.  Forthwith 
he  descends  from  the  carriage,  jumps  into  the  middle  of 
the  crowd,  takes  hold  of  their  hands,   and   commences 


Father  Fulgent  to.  85 


dancing  in  the  most  brilliant  style,  at  the  same  time  join- 
ing in  the  chorus  with  right  good  will,  "  C'est  le  Morcain, 
le  Morcain."  Away  he  goes  dancing  and  singing,  and  his 
sansculottes  with  him,  till  they  reach  the  door  of  the  church, 
into  which  he  also  dances,  irreverent  fellow  !  and  the  crowd 
after  him.  But  there  he  is  on  his  own  ground,  and  straight- 
way he  mounts  the  pulpit,  and  preaches  a  most  tremend- 
ous fire-and-brimstone  sermon,  at  the  end  of  which  he  pro- 
claims that  if,  during  the  whole  course  of  the  mission,  any 
one  who  has  sung  that  song  wants  to  go  to  confession  he 
has  only  to  cry  out,  Monsieur,  j'ai  chante  le  Morcain,  and 
he  shall  be  heard  immediately,  before  any  one  else.  No 
waiting  for  turns.  No  v-^eary  delay.  No  besieging  the 
missioner's  confessional  for  hours.  No,  he  has  gained 
an  immediate  hearing.  And  so  it  was.  Ever  and  anon, 
during  the  mission,  from  the  outermost  edge  of  huge  crowds 
of  women  and  others,  no  matter  what  was  going  on,  came 
in  a  loud  voice  the  appointed  signal.  Monsieur,  j'ai  chante 
le  Morcain.  No  sooner  said  than  done.  It  is  as  though 
he  were  some  royal  personage.  A  passage  is  formed 
through  the  red  sea  of  people  for  him ;  every  one  else 
gives  way ;  no  one  claims  his  turn ;  it  is  a  bargain  j  it  is 
fun  and  consolation  and  earnestness  all  in  one,  and  there 
is  Monsieur  j'ai  chante  le  Morcain  foreshadowing  his  own 
arrival  and  acceptance  one  day  at  his  Saviour's  feet  in 
heaven,  in  tears  at  the  feet  of  him  who  thus  knew  how  to 
be  all  things  to  all  men,  that  by  any  means  he  might  gain 
some. 

FATHER  FULGENTIO 

Was  the  friend  and  biographer  of  the  celebrated  Paul 
Sarpi.  He  belongs  to  the  transition  period,  between  the 
mediaeval  and  that  which  followed  the  Reformation.     He 


86  The  Pulpit  Hour-  Glass. 


was  secretly  the  friend  of  that  great  movement.  He  pro- 
moted, in  a  quaint  but  forcible  manner,  the  circulation  of 
the  Holy  Bible,  and  the  strong  curiosity  then  roused  to  per- 
use its  pages.  One  day  he  was  preaching  on  the  sorrowful 
question  of  Pilate,  "  What  is  truth  ? "  He  told  his  hearers 
that  after  long,  patient,  and  painful  toil  he  had  found  it. 
Holding  forth  a  copy  of  the  New  Testament,  "  Here  it 
IS,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Here  it  is  !  But,"  he  added,  as  he 
returned  the  precious  volume  to  his  pocket,  "  you  must 
not  read  it ;  you  must  not  even  look  at  it  !  It  is  a  sealed 
book  !     It  IS  A  sealed  book  !  " 

The  Pulpit  Hour- Glass. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  use  of  the  hour-glass 
in  the  pulpit  is  a  little  older  than  the  Reformation.  A 
curious  specimen  is  to  be  seen  in  the  pulpit  of  the 
Cathedral  of  Berne,  which  seems  almost  coeval  with  the 
building  itself.  The  latter  was  commenced  142 1,  and 
finished  1457. 

In  the  frontispiece  prefixed  to  the  Holy  Bible  of  the 
Bishops'  Translation,  imprinted  by  Johji  Day,  1569,  Arch- 
bishop Parker  is  represented  with  an  hour-glass  placed  at 
his  right  hand.  Clocks  and  watches  were  then  but  rarely 
in  use.  The  latter  were  called  Nuremberg  eggs,  because 
they  had  been  invented  at  that  Birmingham  of  the  middle 
ages,  and  the  works  were  enclosed  in  the  shells  of  birds' 
eggs.  The  hour-glass,  showing  the  flow  of  the  sands  of 
time,  was  the  most  convenient  instrument  for  informing  a 
preacher  of  the  length  of  his  argument. 

Prolixity  and  vehemence  are  common  arts  for  obtaining 
popularity.  That,  for  instance,  of  Edward  Irving  culmi- 
nated and  began  to  decline,  when  he  preached  for  four, 


The  Pulpit  Hour-Glass.  87 

if  not  for  five  hours,  at  the  Whitefieldite  Chapel  in  Tot- 
tenham Court  Road,  sitting  down  to  rest  himself  at  inter- 
vals during  the  tremendous  effort,  and  taking  some  light 
refreshment. 

The  ignorant  and  enthusiastic  measure  the  value  of  a 
sermon  by  the  quantity  of  the  words,  rather  than  the 
quality  of  the  matter.  They  like  to  take  religious  in- 
struction in  enormous  drams  and  doses.  In  some  cases 
the  mental  powers  of  digestion  are  hopelessly  impaired  by 
the  process.  In  others,  the  imagination  is  intoxicated  and 
the  conscience  drugged.  "  Immoderate  length  in  all  kinds 
of  religious  offices,"  says  Dr  Campbell  in  his  "  Lectures  on 
the  Pastoral  Character,"  "  has  ever  had  an  influence  on 
weak  and  superstitious  minds ;  and  for  this  reason,  those 
who  have  hypocritically  affected  the  religious  character, 
have  ever  chosen  to  distinguish  themselves  by  this  circum- 
stance. The  Pharisees  who  made  use  of  religion  as  a 
cover  to  their  pride  and  extortion,  '  for  a  pretence,'  as  our 
Lord  tells  us,  '  made  long  prayers.'  He  who  never  spoke 
a  word  in  vain  did  not  add  the  epithet  long  unmeaningly. 
The  length  of  their  devotions,  as  well  as  the  breadth  of  their 
phylacteries,  and  the  largeness  of  the  fringes  of  the  corners 
of  their  garments,  were  all  so  many  engines  of  their  craft." 

The  pungent  and  epigrammatic  South  denounces,  with 
all  his  accomplished  powers  of  sarcasm,  the  new  sort  of 
gymnastic  exercises  in  which  the  Puritans  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  had  delighted  to  excel.  He  emphatically 
denominates  such  efforts  preaching  prizes^  in  which  the 
competitors  in  the  contest  vied  with  one  another,  which 
could  pour  forth  the  mightiest  torrent  of  sesquipedalian' 
words,  and  which  could  shout  out,  unexhausted,  for  the 
longest  period  of  time. 


Evil  of  Long  Sermons. 


"  Can  anything,"  asks  Dr  Campbell,  with  profound 
wisdom  and  discrimination,  "  of  the  nature,  use,  and  end 
of  preaching  be  understood  or  regarded,  where  such  a 
Pharisaic  trick  is  put  in  practice  %  It  may  be  said  that 
the  appetite  of  some  persons  is  here  insatiable.  Depend 
upon  it,  wherever  that  is  the  case,  it  is  a  false  appetite, 
and  followed  by  no  digestion.  The  whole  significancy  of 
those  exercises  to  such  is  the  time  spent  in  them,  and 
the  transient  emotions  they  feel  when  thus  employed." 

It  may  be  observed,  that  the  use  of  hour-glasses  appears 
to  have  decUned  after  the  Revolution  of  1688.  "  One 
whole  houre-glasse,''  "  one  halfe-hour-glasse,"  occur  in  an 
■inventory,  taken  about  1632,  of  the  goods  and  utensils  of 
All-Saints'  Church,  Newcastle-upon-Tyne.'"* 

Daniel  Burgess,  a  nonconformist  preacher,  famous  at  the 
beginning  of  the  last  century  for  the  intolerable  length  of 
his  pulpit  harangues,  and  for  the  quaintness  of  his  illustra- 
tions, was  one  day  declaiming  with  great  vehemence  against 
the  sin  of  drunkenness.  Having  exhausted  the  usual  time, 
he  turned  the  glass,  and  said,  "  Brethren,  I  have  some 
further  observations  to  make  on  the  nature  and  conse- 
quences of  drunkenness  \  so  let 's  have  the  other  glass, 
AND  THEN,  AND  THEN ! "  This  witticism  seems  to  have 
been  followed  from  the  frontispiece  of  a  small  volume, 
entitled  "  England's  Shame,  or  a  Relation  of  the  Life  and 
Death  of  Hugh  Peters.  By  Dr  WilHam  Young,  1663." 
Hugh  Peters  is  here  represented  preaching,  holding  an 
hour-glass  in  his  left  hand,  while  he  is  in  the  act  of  saying, 
"  I  know  you  are  good  fellows ;   so  let 's  have  another 

GLASS." 

M.  Mullois,  a  modern  French  writer,  chaplain  to  Na- 
•  Brand's  "  History  of  Newcastle-on-Tyne,"  vol.  ii,,  p.  370,  notes. 


Evil  of  Long  Sermo?is.  89 

poleon  III.,  following  the  suggestions  of  St  Francis  de 
Sales,  makes  the  following  cogent  observations  on  the 
subject  of  brevity  : — 

"Beheve  me,  and  I  speak  from  experience,  the  more 
you  say,  the  less  will  the  hearers  retain ;  the  less  you  say, 
the  more  they  will  profit.  By  dint  of  burdening  their 
memory,  you  will  overwhelm  it;  just  as  a  lamp  is  extin- 
guished by  feeding  it  with  too  much  oil,  and  plants  are 
choked  by  immoderate  irrigation. 

"  When  a  sermon  is  too  long,  the  end  erases  the  middle 
from  the  memory,  and  the  middle  the  beginning. 

"  Even  mediocre  preachers  are  acceptable,  provided 
their  discourses  are  short;  whereas  even  the  best  preachers 
are  a  burden  when  they  speak  too  long." 

Is  not  long  preaching  very  much  like  an  attempt  to 
surpass  these  men,  who  were  so  highly  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  Christianity  % 

Luther's  maxim  to  a  young  preacher  was — 

"  Tritf  frisch  mif—thu's  maid  aiif—hoor  bald  a7if^' — 

"Stand    up    cheerily  —  speak    up    manfully  —  leave    off 

speedily." 

^  *  *  *  * 

The  Puritans  led  the  way  in  introducing  long  and 
wearisome  sermons.  One  said,  "  Now  to  be  brief,  I  re- 
mark, eighteenthly — 1" 


CHAPTER  IV. 


ANECDOTES  AND  REMINISCENCES  OF  CELEBRATED  FRENCH, 
SPANISH,  GERMAN,  AND  OTHER  FOREIGN  PREACHERS, 
FROM  THE  TIME  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


FATHER  SERAPHIN. 

ATHER  SERAPHIN  was  strongly  commended 
by  La  Bruyere  as  a  preacher  thoroughly 
worthy  of  participating  in  the  uninterrupted 
apostolical  succession.  The  first  time  that 
the  Father  preached  before  King  Lewis  XIV.,  he  said 
to  the  monarch,  "  Sire,  I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  custom, 
according  to  the  prescription  of  which  I  ought  to  pay 
you  a  compliment  in  my  discourse.  This  I  hope  your 
Majesty  will  be  graciously  pleased  to  dispense  with ;  for 
I  have  been  searching  for  a  compliment  in  the  Scriptures, 
and  unhappily,  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  one." 


M.  LE  TOURNEAU. 

When  M.  Le  Tourneau  preached  the  Lent  lectures  at 
St  Benoit  in  Paris,  in  the  place  of  Father  Quesnel,  who 
had  been  compelled  to  abscond,  Lewis  XIV.  inquired  of 
Boileau  if  he  knew  anything  about  a  preacher,  after  whom 
everybody  in  the  town  was  running.  "  Sire,"  replied  the 
wit  and  satirist,  "  your  Majesty  knows  that  people  always 


92  Archbishop  Fenelo7i. 

run  after  novelties.  This  man  preaches  the  gospel."  The 
king  then  pressing  the  poet  to  give  his  serious  opinion  on 
the  subject,  Boileau  added,  "  When  Mons.  Le  Tourneau 
mounts  the  pulpit,  his  ugliness  so  disgusts  the  congrega- 
tion, that  they  wish  he  would  go  down  again  ;  but  when 
he  begins  to  speak,  they  dread  the  time  of  his  descending 
as  the  greatest  misfortune." 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  this  very  successful  orator,  after 
he  had  entered  into  holy  orders,  thought  himself  so  ill- 
qualified  for  the  pulpit,  that  he  actually  went  and  re- 
nounced all  the  duties  of  the  priesthood.  It  was  not 
until  some  time  afterwards,  that,  moved  by  the  earnest 
entreaties  of  Mons.  De  Lacy,  he  was  induced  to  resume 
them. 

The  remark  of  Boileau,  that  the  fervent  preaching  of 
the  gospel  was  at  that  period  a  novelty,  will  recall  to  the 
minds  of  some  the  candid  confession  of  a  preacher  at 
Mols,  near  Antwerp,  who,  in  a  sermon  delivered  to  an 
audience  consisting  entirely  of  his  own  order,  is  said  to 
have  observed  :  "  We  are  worse  than  the  traitor  Judas. 
He  sold  and  delivered  his  Master.  We  sell  Him  to  you, 
but  we  deliver  Him  not." 

FENELON. 

[Fran9ois  de  Salignac  de  Lamotte,  born  Aug.  6,  1651,  at  the  ChSteau 
de  Fenelon,  Perigord,  died  Jan.  7,  1715.] 

When  Fenelon  was  almoner  to  Lewis  XIV.,  it  was  his 
duty  to  attend  that  monarch  to  a  sermon  preached  by  a 
Capuchin.  Being  greatly  fatigued,  he  fell  asleep.  The 
Capuchin  perceived  what  had  happened,  and  breaking  off 
his  discourse,  exclaimed,   in   angry  tones,   "Awake  that 


Archbishop  Fenclon.  93 

sleeping  abbe,  who  comes  here  only  to  pay  his  court  to 
the  king."  This  reproof  Fenelon  often  related  with  plea- 
sure after  he  became  Archbishop  of  Cambray. 

At  another  time  the  king  was  surprised  to  see  only 
Fenelon  and  the  priest  at  the  royal  chapel,  instead  of  a 
numerous  congregation,  as  usual.  "  What  is  the  reason 
of  all  this?"  inquired  the  monarch.  "Why,"  replied 
Fenelon,  "  I  caused  it  to  be  announced  that  your  Majesty 
would  not  attend  divine  service  to-day,  that  you  might 
know,  sire,  who  came  to  worship  God,  and  who  to  flatter 
the  king." 

When  Lewis  appointed  Fenelon  chief  of  the  missionaries 
to  convert  the  Protestants  of  Sausonge,  his  Majesty  in- 
sisted that  a  regiment  of  guards  should  accompany  him. 
*'  The  ministers  of  religion,"  said  Fenelon,  "  are  the  evan- 
gelists of  peace,  and  the  military  might  frighten  all,  but 
would  not  convert  a  single  individual.  It  was  by  the  force 
of  their  morals  that  the  apostles  converted  mankmd ;  per- 
mit us,  then,  sire,  to  follow  their  example."  "  But,  alas," 
said  the  king,  "  have  you  nothing  to  fear  from  the  fanati- 
cism of  these  heretics  V  "  I  am  no  stranger  to  it,  sire, 
but  a  priest  must  not  let  fears  like  these  enter  into  his 
calculation ;  and  I  take  the  liberty  of  mentioning  to  your 
Majesty,  that  if  we  would  convert  our  diffident  brethren, 
we  must  go  to  them  like  true  and  primitive  apostles.  For 
my  own  part,  I  w^ould  rather  become  their  victim  than  see 
one  of  them,  or  the  young  ladies  of  their  family,  exposed 
to  the  vexations,  the  insults,  the  almost  necessary  violence 
of  our  mihtary  men." 

Not  long  before  he  died,  Fenelon  ascended  the  pulpit 
of  his  cathedral,  preached  a  sermon,  and  excommunicated 
in  person  such  of  his  writings  as  the  Pope  had  interdicted. 


94  Antho7iy  of  Vieyra. 


He  placed  on  the  altar  a  piece  of  sacred  plate,  on  which 
were  embossed  some  books,  with  the  titles  of  those  which 
had  been  denounced  as  heretical  struck  with  the  fire  of 
heaven. 

ANTHONY  OF  VIEYRA. 

Was  a  remarkable  orator  among  the  Spaniards  and  Portu- 
guese. He  was  humorous  while  instructive.  One  of  his 
most  celebrated  sermons  was  addressed  to  the  fishes. 
It  is  still  remembered  and  quoted  in  Spain. 

"  What/'  says  he,  "  are  we  to  preach  to-day  to  the 
fishes  %  No  audience  can  be  worse.  At  least  fishes  have 
two  good  qualities  as  hearers — they  can  hear,  and  they 
cannot  speak.  One  thing  only  might  discourage  the 
preacher — that  fishes  aj'e  a  kind  of  race  who  cannot  be  con- 
verted. But  this  circumstance  is  here  so  very  ordinary,  that 
froJJi  custom  one  feels  it  no  longer.  For  this  cause,  I  shall 
not  speak  to-day  of  heaven  or  of  hell ;  and  thus  this  ser- 
mon will  be  less  gloomy  than  mine  are  usually  considered, 
from  putting  men  continually  in  remembrance  of  these 

two  ends. 

****** 

"  To  begin,  then,  with  your  praises,  fishes  and  brethren.  I 
might  very  well  tell  you  that,  of  all  living  and  sensitive 
creatures,  you  were  the  first  which  God  created.  He 
made  you  before  the  fowls  of  the  air ;  He  made  you  before 
the  beasts  of  the  earth ;  He  made  you  before  man  him^ 
self.  God  gave  to  man  the  monarchy  and  dominion  over 
all  the  animals  of  the  three  elements,  and  in  the  charter 
in  which  He  honoured  him  with  these  powers,  fishes  are 
the  first  named.  Let  them  have  dominion  over  the  fish  of 
the  sea,  and  over  the  fozvl  of  the  air,  and  over  the  cattle. 


Abraha7n  Sanda  Clara.  95 


x\mong  all  animals,  fishes  are  the  most  numerous  and  the 

largest For  this  reason  Moses,  the  chronicler  of 

the  creation,  while  he  does  not  mention  the  name  of  other 
animals,  names  a  fish  only.  God  created  great  whales. 
And  the  three  musicians  of  the  furnace  of  Babylon  brought 
forward  in  their  song  the  name  of  the  same  fish  with  espe- 
cial honour,  O  ye  whales.  .  .  .  bless  ye  the  Lord.  These 
and  other  praises,  then,  and  other  excellences  of  your 
creation  and  greatness,  I  might  well,  O  fishes,  set  before 
you  ;  but  such  a  matter  is  only  fit  for  an  audience  of  men 
who  pen7iit  themselves  to  be  carried  away  by  these  vanities^ 
and  is,  also,  only  suited  to  those  places  where  adulation  is 
allowed,  and  not  in  the  pulpit. 

Great  praise  do  ye  merit,  O  fishes,  for  the  respect 

and  devotion  which  ye  have  had  to  the  preacher  of  the  Word 
of  God;  and  so  much  the  more,  because  ye  did  not  exhibit 
it  once  only.  Jonah  went  as  a  preacher  of  the  same  God, 
and  was  on  board  a  ship  when  that  great  tempest  arose. 
How  did  men  theft  treat  him,  and  how  did  fishes  treat  him  ? 
Men  cast  him  into  the  sea,  to  be  eaten  by  fishes;  and 
the  fish  which  followed  him  carried  him  to  the  shores  of 
Nineveh,  that  he  might  there  preach,  and  save  those  men. 
Is  it  possible  that  fishes  should  assist  in  the  salvation  of 
men?''  *  ^^  *  -^  * 

Thus  he  pursues  an  ingenious  argument,  which  is  said 
to  have  made  a  lively  impression  on  his  hearers. 

ABRAHAM  SANCTA  CLARA 

Was  a  barefooted  Augustine  monk,  who,  in  1669,  became 
imperial  court  preacher  to  Leopold  I.,  the  Emperor  of 
Germany.  He  was  wonderfully  popular  as  an  orator. 
He  is  said   to  have  been   distinguished  by  brilliance  of 


96  Abra/ia?n  Sancta  Clara. 

imagery,  genial  wit,  an  animated  delivery,  and  excoriating 
powers  of  satire.  He  died  in  1709.  The  following  pass- 
age is  a  fair  specimen  of  his  droll  style,  and  the  method 
of  preaching  that  was  preferred  during  the  times  in  which 
he  lived,  by  all  classes  in  Southern  Germany. 

The  Prodigal  Son. 

"  Of  what  country  the  prodigal  son  was  is  not  precisely 
known,  but  I  believe  he  was  an  Irishman.  What  his  name 
was,  is  not  generally  understood;  but  I  believe  it  was 
Malefacius.  From  what  place  he  took  his  title  (seeing  he 
was  a  nobleman)  has  not  yet  been  discovered;  but  I 
believe  it  was  Maidsberg  or  Womenham.  What  was  the 
device  in  his  coat  of  arms,  no  one  has  described ;  but  I 
believe  it  was  a  sow's  stomach  in  a  field  verd. 

"  This  chap  travelled  with  well-larded  purse  through 
various  countries  and  provinces,  and  returned  no  better, 
but  rather  worse.  So  it  often  happens  still,  that  many  a 
noble  youth  has  his  travels  changed  to  travails.  Not  sel- 
dom, also,  he  goes  forth  a  good  German,  and  returns  a 
bad  Herman.  What  honour  or  credit  is  it  to  the  noble 
river  Danube  that  it  travels  through  different  lands, 
through  Suabia,  Bavaria,  Austria,  Hungary,  and  at  last 
unites  with  a  sow  !  The  pious  Jacob  saw,  in  his  journey, 
a  ladder  to  heaven ;  but,  alas !  many  of  our  quality  find, 
in  their  journeys,  a  ladder  into  hell.  If,  now-a-days,  a 
man  travel  not,  he  is  called  a  Jack-in-the-corner,  and  one 
who  has  set  up  his  rest  behind  the  stove.  But  tell  me, 
dear  half-Germans,  (for  whole  Germans  ye  have  long 
ceased  to  be,)  Is  it  not  true  %  Ye  send  your  sons  out  that 
they  may  learn  strange  vices  at  great  cost  in  stranger- 
lands,  when,  with  far  less  expense,  they  might  be  a':quiring 


His  Pulpit  Drolleries.  97 

virtues  at  home.  They  return  with  no  more  point  to  them 
than  they  went  out,  except  that  they  bring  home  some 
new  fashion  of  poi?it-\d^cQ.  They  return  no  more  gallant, 
unless  it  be  that  gallant  comes  from  the  French  galaiif. 
They  return  more  splendidly  clad,  but  good  habits  were 
better  than  to  be  finely  habited.  New-fashioned  hats,  new- 
fashioned  periwigs,  new-fashioned  collars,  new-fashioned 
coats,  new-fashioned  breeches,  new-fashioned  hose,  new- 
fashioned  shoes,  new-fashioned  ribbons,  new-fashioned 
buttons — also  new-fashioned  consciences  creep  into  our 
beloved  Germany  through  your  travels.  Your  fool's  frocks 
change  too  with  every  moon ;  and  soon  the  tailors  will 
have  to  estabUsh  a  university,  and  take  doctor's  degrees, 
and  afterwards  bear  the  title  of  right  reverend  doctors  of 
fashion. 

"If  I  had  all  the  newfashions  of  coats  for  four-and-twenty 
years,  I  would  almost  make  a  curtain  before  the  sun  with 
them,  so  that  men  should  go  about  with  lanterns  in  the 
day-time.  At  least,  I  would  undertake  to  hide  all  Turkey 
with  them,  so  that  the  Constantinopolitans  should  think 
their  Mohammed  was  playing  blind-the-cat  with  them. 
An  old  witch,  at  the  request  of  king  Saul,  called  the  pro- 
phet Samuel  from  the  dead,  that  he  might  know  the  result 
of  his  arms.  It  will  soon  come  to  pass,  that  people  will 
want  to  call  from  the  dead  the  identical  tailor  and  master 
who  made  the  beautiful  Esther's  garment,  when  she  was 

so  well-pleasing  in  the  eyes  of  Ahasuerus 

...  So  the  prodigal  son  learned  but  little  good  in  foreign 
lands.  His  doing  was  wooing ;  his  thinking  was  drinking; 
his  Latin  was  Proficiat^  his  Italian  Brindisi,  his  Bohemian 
Sasdravi,  his  German  Gesegnets  Gott.  In  one  word,  he 
was  a  goodly  fellow  always  mellow,  a  vagrant,  a  bacchant^ 

G 


98  Father  Selle. 


an  amant,  a  turhant^  a  distillaiit,  &c.  Now  he  had  wasted 
his  substance  in  foreign  provinces,  and  torn  his  conscience 
to  tatters  as  well  as  his  clothes.  He  might,  with  truth, 
have  said  to  his  father  what  the  brothers  of  Joseph  said, 
without  truth,  to  Jacob  when  they  showed  him  the  bloody 
coat,  ''  fera  pessimal  &c.,  '  an  evil  beast  hath  devoured 
him/  An  evil  beast  devoured  the  prodigal  son :  an  evil 
beast,  the  golden  eagle;  an  evil  beast,  the  golden  griffin;  an 
evil  beast,  the  golden  buck,  an  evil  beast,  the  golden  bear. 
These  tavern-beasts  reduced  the  youngster  to  that  condi- 
tion thg,t  his  breeches  -were  as  transparent  as  a  fisherman's 
net,  his  stomach  shrunk  together  hke  an  empty  bladder, 
and  the  mirror  of  his  misery  was  to  be  seen  on  the  sleeve 
of  his  dirty  doublet,  &c.  And  now,  when  the  scamp  had 
got  sick  of  the  swine-diet,  more  wholesome  thoughts  came 
into  his  mind,  and  he  would  go  straight  home  to  his  old 
father,  and  seek  a  favourable  hearing  at  his  feet ;  in  wiiich 
he  succeeded  according  to  his  wish.  And  his  own  father 
fell  quite  lovingly  on  the  neck  of  the  bad  vocativo,  for 
which  a  rope  would  have  been  fitter.  Yea,  he  w^as  intro- 
duced with  special  joy  and  jubilee  into  the  paternal  dwell- 
ing, sudden  preparations  were  made  for  a  feast,  kitchen 
and  cellar  were  put  in  requisition,  and  the  best  and  fattest 
calf  must  be  killed  in  a  hurry,  and  cooked  and  roasted. 
Away  with  the  rags  and  tatters  !  and  hurrah  for  the  velvet 
coat  and  the  prinked  up  hat  and  a  gold  ring  !  Bring  on 
your  fiddlers  !  allegro  r^ 


A  Dominican,  preached  a  sermon  in  Poland  before  Cardi- 
nal de  Jansen,  an  ambassador  there.  It  forms  a  pejidaiit 
to  the  foregoing,  and  is,  in  like  manner,  a  specimen  of 


Father  Sellis  Style.  99 


current  Roman  Catholic  oratory.     Robinson  quotes  it  in 
his  well-known  translation  of  Claude. 

"  Gen.  ix.  13,  /  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud.  It  is  not 
enough  for  the  celestial  rainbow  to  please  the  eye — it  con- 
veys the  richest  consolation  into  the  heart ;  the  Word  of 
God  having  constituted  it  the  happy  presage  of  tranquillity 
and  peace,  /  do  set  my  boiv  in  the  cloud. 

*'  The  hotv,  enriched  with  clouds,  becomes  the  crown  of 
the  world — the  gracefulness  of  the  air — the  garland  of  the 
universe — the  salubrity  of  heaven — the  pomp  of  nature — 
the  triumph  of  serenity — the  ensign  of  love — the  picture  of 
clemency — the  messenger  of  liberality — the  mansion  of 
amorous  smiles — the  rich  stanza  of  pleasure — in  fine,  the 
trumpet  of  peace,  for  /  do  set  my  bow  in  the  cloud. 

"  It  is  a  boiv,  gentlemen,  with  which  the  roaring  thunder 
being  appeased,  the  heavenly  Orpheus,  in  order  insensibly 
to  enchant  the  whole  creation,  already  become  immov- 
able by  his  divine  harmony,  plays  upon  the  violin  of  this 
universe,  which  has  as  many  strings  as  it  has  elements — 
for  I  do  set  my  boiu  in  the  cloud. 

''  Yes,  it  is  a  bow  in  which  we  see  Mars,  the  eternal  god 
of  war,  who  was  just  now  ready  to  overwhelm  the  world 
with  tempest,  metamorphosed  into  a  god  of  love.  Yes,  it 
is  a  bow  all  gilded  with  golden  rays — a  silver  dew — a 
theatre  of  emeralds,  rubies,  and  diamonds,  to  increase  the 
riches  of  this  poor  beggarly  world.  Bid  yon  perceive^  gen- 
tlemen^ I  am  speaking  of  that  celestial  star,  that  bow  in  the 
cloudy  Maiy  Magdalen  / 

"  Bravo  !  Mary  Magdalen  is  hke  a  rainbow,  and  a  rain- 
bow is  like  a  fiddlestick  ! " 


lOO  Father  AndrL 


"A  French  Capuchin, 
On  the  festival  of  St  James,  had  to  pronounce  a  pane- 
gyric on  that  saint.  As  he  was  rather  late,  the  attendant 
priests,  who  feared  that  he  would  make  a  long  ser- 
mon, and  so  weary  the  congregation,  entreated  him  to 
abridge  it.  The  monk  mounted  the  pulpit,  and  addressing 
the  people,  said  : — ^  My  brethren,  twelve  months  ago  I 
preached  an  eulogy  on  the  eminent  apostle  whose  festival 
you  this  day  celebrate.  As  I  doubt  not  but  that  you  were 
all  very  attentive  to  me,  and  as  I  have  not  learned  that  he 
has  done  anything  new  since,  I  have  nothing  to  add  to 
what  I  said  at  that  time.'  He  then  pronounced  the  bless- 
ing, and  descended  from  the  pulpit." 

FATHER  ANDRf, 

A  popular  but  somewhat  grotesque  French  preacher  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  being  of  small  stature,  was  called 
by  his  bishop  le  petit  f allot,  a  word  signifying  equally  a 
lantern  and  a  jackanapes.  Having  to  preach  before  the 
prelate,  Andre  determined  to  notice  this ;  so  he  took  for 
his  text,  "Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world."  Then  address- 
ing the  bishop,  he  said,  "  Vous  etes,  Monseigneur,  le  grand 
fallot  de  I'eglise,  et  nous  sommes  que  les  petits  fallots." 

In  one  of  his  sermons  he  compared  the  four  doctors  of 
the  Latin  Church  to  the  four  kings  of  cards.  "  St  Augus- 
tine," said  he,  "  is  the  king  of  hearts,  for  his  great  charity; 
St  Ambrose  is  the  king  of  clubs  {trefle)  by  the  flowers  of  his 
eloquence ;  St  Gregory  is  the  king  of  diamonds  for  his 
strict  regularity;  and  St  Jerome  is  the  king  of  spades 
{piqtie)  for  his  piquant  style." 

The  Duke  of  Orleans  once  dared  Father  Andre  to  em- 
ploy any  ridiculous  expressions  about  him.     This,  how- 


Father  Maimhoiirg.  loi 


ever,  our  good  father  did  very  adroitly.  He  addressed 
him  thus  :  ''  Foiii  de  vous  monseignmr,  foin  de  moi^foin  de 
touts  ies  auditeursr  He  saved  himself  by  taking  for  his 
text  the  7th  verse  of  the  40th  chapter  of  Isaiah,  where  it 
is  said  all  the  people  are  grass— >//?,  in  French,  signifying 
hay,  and  being  also  an  m\.^x]Q,QX\oxi— fie  upon  ! 

The  same  Father  Andre,  preaching  before  an  arch- 
bishop, perceived  him  to  be  asleep  during  the  sermon, 
and  hit  on  the  following  ingenious  method  of  awakening 
him.  Turning  to  the  beadle  of  the  church,  he  said,  in  a 
loud  voice,  "  Shut  the  door,  the  shepherd  is  asleep,  and 
the  sheep  are  going  out  to  whom  I  am  announcing  the 
Word  of  God."  This  sally  caused  a  stir  among  the  audi- 
ence, and  so  awoke  the  archbishop. 

FATHER  MAIMBOURG, 

A  well-known  Jesuit  of  the  seventeenth  century,  once 
preached  a  sermon  on  Dogs.  It  is  found  in  the  preface 
to  the  Mons  translation  of  the  New  Testament. 

"  It  was  the  Sunday  after  Easter,  (upon  which  Maim- 
bourg  preached,)  when  the  gospel  about  the  good  shepherd 
was  read.  From  hence  he  took  occasion  to  magnify  the 
condition  of  shepherds,  by  observing  that  it  was  not  for- 
merly the  profession  of  the  meanest  people,  as  it  is  at 
present,  but  that  kings  and  princes  did  not  think  it  un- 
worthy of  them.  After  this  he  reckoned  up  a  great  num- 
ber of  princes  that  were  shepherds  j  and  then  he  forgot 
not  the  patriarchs,  but  carried  down  the  catalogue  as  far 
as  David,  upon  whom  he  insisted  a  long  time;  for  he 
gave  us  a  correct  idea  of  his  beauty,  the  colour  of  his 
hair,  his  clothes,  and  lastly,  his  dog.  It  was,  says  he,  a 
brave  dog,  and  had  so  much  courage,  that  we  may  believe 


102  Father  Maiinhoiirg. 


thafj  while  his  master  fought  against  Goliath,  this  dog,  to 
avoid  the  disgrace  of  doing  nothing  in  the  meantime,  hunted 
after  the  tvolves  and  fought  them.  After  the  good  father 
was  once  entered  on  the  subject  of  dogs,  as  if  he  had 
been  hnked  to  it  by  some  secret  sympathy,  he  could  not 
tell  how  to  leave  it,  and  therefore  he  divided  his  sermon 
into  four  parts,  according  to  the  four  several  sorts  of  dogs. 
The  first  sort  were  English  dogs ;  the  second  were  mastiff 
dogs  J  the  third  were  the  lap-dogs  j  and  the  fourth  were 
the  good  dogs ;  whereof  he  made  an  application  to  difter- 
ent  sorts  of  preachers.  The  English  were  the  Jansenists, 
or,  as  they  were  then  called,  the  Arnauldists,  whom  he 
represented  as  an  indiscreet  people,  who  tore  in  pieces  all 
men  indifferently,  and  made  no  distinction  between  the 
innocent  and  the  guilty,  but  oppressed  everybody  with 
hard  penances.  He  described  the  mastiff  dogs  as  being 
cowardly,  having  no  courage  but  upon  their  own  dunghill, 
and  who,  being  beat  off  from  that,  were  always  fearful, 
which  he  applied  to  preachers  of  that  humour.  The  lap- 
dogs  were,  according  to  him,  the  abbots  of  the  court : 
they  are,  said  he,  shaped  like  lions,  and  make  a  great 
noise ;  but  when  they  are  viewed  narrowly,  their  noise  is 
laughed  at.  And  upon  this  occasion  he  described  their 
ruffles,  their  bands,  their  surplices,  and  their  gestures  ;  and 
lastly,  the  good  dogs  were  the  Jesuits ;"  ergo,  this  sermon 
came,  upon  his  own  showing,  from  the  mouth  of  a  Jesuiti- 
cal dog. 

Being  once  requested  to  announce  a  collection  in  behalf 
of  a  young  lady  to  enable  her  to  take  the  veil,  he  said, 
before  the  commencement  of  his  sermon  : — "  My  beloved 
brethren,  I  commend  to  your  charity  a  young  gentle- 
woman, who  has  not  enough  to  enable  her  to  make  a  vow 
of  poverty." 


Revocatio7i  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  103 

Preaching  during  the  whole  of  Lent,  in  a  town  where 
he  was  not  once  invited  to  partake  of  a  morsel  of  dinner, 
he  said,  in  his  farewell  sermon,  "  I  have  preached  against 
every  vice,  except  that  of  too  much  attachment  to  the 
pleasures  of  the  table.  This  vice  is  by  no  means  prevalent 
in  a  single  person  whom  I  address,  and  therefore  I  need 
not  denounce  it." 

Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Naiites. 
When  it  became  evident  that  the  bigoted  king  of 
France,  the  tool  of  that  favourite  instrument  of  Jesuit 
intrigue  and  intolerance,  an  impure  woman,  had  deter- 
mined to  revoke  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  the  ministers  of  the 
church  of  Charenton  kept  many  days  of  solemn  fasting 
and  prayer.  On  one  of  these  occasions^  when  they  had 
been  engaged  for  many  hours  in  exercises  of  devotion,  an 
eminent  minister  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  with  great 
emotion,  set  before  the  people  the  danger  of  the  ark  ot 
God.  His  heart  was  so  full,  that  he  could  not  go  on ; 
sobs  choked  his  utterance.  Floods  of  tears  were  shed, 
and  a  loud  and  universal  wail  arose  from  the  thronged 
assembly.  After  a  considerable  pause,  he  resumed  his 
discourse,  but  was  again  interrupted  by  excess  of  sorrow  ; 
upon  which  he  turned  his  argument  into  prayer,  and  with 
great  fervour  interceded  for  the  mercy  of  the  Lord,  acknow- 
ledging the  Divine  justice  in  whatever  fate  should  fall 
upon  the  people.  Then,  by  a  solemn  act  of  resignation, 
he  laid  themselves  and  all  their  privileges  at  the  feet  of 
the  Saviour,  praying  vehemently,  that  if  the  Lord  saw  it 
would  be  for  His  honour  and  glory  that  the  bodies  of  that 
generation  should  fall  in  the  wilderness,  He  would  revive 
His  strange  work  in  the  next.     To  this  petition  the  Q©n- 


104  A  Ser 7)1071 -foj'  Ca7'di7ia!s. 


gregation  announced  their  assent  by  a  loud  and  fervent 
Amen. 

A  Se7'77i07i  for  Cardi7ials. 

Whiston  relates  that  an  Italian  friar,  famous  for  his 
learning  and  eloquence,  was  commanded  to  preach  before 
the  Pope  at  the  year  of  jubilee.  In  order  that  his  dis- 
course might  be  pungent  and  applicable  to  his  distinguished 
audience,  he  repaired  to  Rome  a  good  while  beforehand, 
that  he  might  study  the  fashions  and  manners  of  the  con- 
clave, and  possibly  expose  their  libertinism  and  vice. 
The  effect  of  his  coming  to  the  so-called  capital  of  Western 
Christendom  was  precisely  the  same  as  that  which  led 
Martin  Luther  to  denounce  the  court  of  the  Vatican. 
When  the  day  on  which  he  was  to  preach  arrived,  he 
ascended  the  pulpit,  and  after  praying  with  much  fervour, 
he  looked  around  for  some  time  in  silence,  and  then  cried 
out  three  times,  with  a  loud  and  sorrowful  voice,  "  Saint 
Peter  was  a  fool  !  Saint  Peter  was  a  fool  !  Saint 
Peter  was  a  fool  ! "  Then,  without  adding  a  word  more, 
he  quickly  came  down  from  his  elevation  and  left  the 
church.  Being  summoned  before  the  Pope,  and  asked 
why  he  had  behaved  so  strangely,  he  said,  with  deep  mo- 
desty, but  terrible  force  :  "  Surely,  holy  Father,  if  cardi- 
nals may  go  to  heaven  abounding  in  wealth,  honour,  and 
preferment, — living  at  ease,  if  not  impurely, — seldom,  if 
ever,  preaching  or  administering  Christ's  holy  sacraments, 
— then,  surely,  Saint  Peter  was  a  fool,  who  took  such  a 
hard  and  troublesome  method  of  arriving  thither,  fasting 
often,  travelUng  always,  always  praying,  and  always  preach- 
ing!" 

Italia7i  P7'eachi7ig, 

In  a  country  where  there  is  so  much  preaching  as  in 


Jtalian  Preaching.  105 


Italy,  and  where  almost  all  preaching  is  exfe??tpore,  or  at 
least  memoriter^  there  must  necessarily  be  many  bad 
preachers,  but  there  are  scarcely  any  drawlers ;  there  is 
nonsense  enough^  but  not  that  lifeless,  dull,  monotony  of 
topic,  style,  and  voice,  which  so  often  sets  our  own  con- 
gregations to  sleep.  Some  preachers,  particularly  at  Naples, 
are  very  ridiculous,  from  the  vehemence  of  their  gesticula- 
tions ;  and  there  is  always  a  crucifix  in  the  pulpit,  which 
often  leads  to  the  introduction  of  a  dramatic  style.  There 
is  a  practice  too,  common  to  all,  which  at  first  is  apt  to 
excite  a  smile.  The  preacher  pronounces  the  sacred  name 
without  any  particular  observance,  but  as  often  as  he  has 
occasion  to  mention  la  sajitissima  Madonna,  he  whips  oft 
his  little  skull-cap,  with  an  air,  that  has  as  much  the  ap- 
pearance of  politeness  as  of  reverence.  The  Italians  are 
not  singular  in  having  made  woman  a  divinity. 

WILLIAM  FAREL 

Was  one  of  the  first  of  that  bold  and  intrepid  band,  who, 
with  their  lives  in  their  hands,  preached  the  doctrines  of 
the  great  Reformation.  He  was  a  native  of  France  ;  his 
learning  and  knowledge  were  considerable  j  his  piety  was 
ardent,  his  moral  conduct  unimpeachable.  He  possessed 
a  powerful  voice  and  a  wonderful  fluency.  Thus  he  was 
peculiarly  qualified  to  be  a  public  disputant  and  popular 
pulpit  orator.  In  these  characters  his  labours  produced 
astonishing  effects,  and  entitled  him  to  the  honour  of 
being  one  of  the  most  successful  instruments,  as  well  as 
one  of  the  first  moving  spirits,  in  establishing  and  pro- 
moting the  Reformation. 

Farel,  like  most  energetic  men,  was  violent  and  over- 
bearing in  temper.     This  weakness  often  betrayed  itself 


io6  William  Farel—JoJin  Calvin. 

in  his  writings,  as  well  as  in  the  pulpit.  CEcolampadius, 
however,  succeeded  in  moderating  his  spirit  by  friendly 
remonstrance.  ^'  Men,"  said  he,  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
Farel,  "  may  be  led,  but  will  not  be  driven  by  force. 
Give  me  leave,  as  a  friend,  and  as  a  brother  to  a  brother, 
to  say,  you  do  not  seem,  in  every  respect,  to  remember 
your  duty.  You  were  sent  to  preach,  and  not  to  rail.  I 
excuse,  nay,  I  commend  your  zeal,  so  that  it  be  not  with- 
out meekness.  Endeavour,  my  brother,  that  this  advice 
may  have  its  desired  effect,  and  I  shall  have  reason  to  re- 
joice that  I  gave  it.  Pour  on  wine  and  oil  in  due  season, 
and  demean  yourself  as  an  evangelist  and  not  as  a  tyran- 
nical legislator." 

When  Farel  undertook  the  reformation  of  Montbiliard, 
he  discovered  much  intemperate  warmth  in  the  bitter  ex- 
pressions which,  in  the  pulpit,  he  applied  to  the  priesthood 
of  the  Church  of  Rome.  On  one  occasion  he  publicly 
stopped  a  procession,  and  wresting  from  the  hands  of  a 
priest  the  image  of  St  Anthony,  he  threw  it  from  the 
bridge  into  the  river — an  act  which  was  a  gross  breach  of 
decorum  and  toleration  ;  and  had  not  the  people  been 
panic-struck  by  its  strange  boldness,  the  labours  and  hfe 
of  Farel  might  have  come,  on  the  spot,  to  an  untimely, 
if  not  an  ignominious  end. 

JOHN  CALVIN 

Was  born  at  Nyon  in  Picardy  in  1509,  and  died  at 
Geneva  in  1564.  He  was  only  twenty-six  years  of  age 
when  he  composed  his  celebrated  Institution  Chretienne, 
Notwithstanding  the  incorrectness  of  some  of  his  sen- 
tences, when  criticised  in  the  light  of  modern  French 
rhetoric,  he  has  been  called  one  of  the  fathers  of  French 


John  Lasse?iuis.  107 


idiom.  His  life  and  writings  are  well  known ;  but  it  is 
not  generally  known  that  he  left  upwards  of  2500  printed 
and  manuscript  sermons. 

JOHN   LASSENIUS, 

The  chaplain  to  the  Danish  court,  who  died  at  Copen- 
hagen in  1692,  having  for  a  long  time  perceived,  to  his 
vexation,  that  during  his  sermon  the  greatest  part  of  his 
congregation  fell  asleep,  suddenly  stopped,  pulled  a  shuttle- 
cock out  of  his  pocket,  and  began  to  play  with  it  in  the 
pulpit.  A  circumstance  so  extraordinary  naturally  attracted 
the  attention  of  that  part  of  the  congregation  who  were 
still  awake.  They  jogged  those  who  were  sleeping,  and 
in  a  short  time  everybody  was  lively,  and  looking  to  the 
pulpit  with  the  greatest  astonishment.  This  was  just  what 
Lassenius  wished  ;  for  he  immediately  began  a  most  severe 
castigatory  discourse,  saying,  "  When  I  announce  to  you 
sacred  and  important  truths,  you  are  not  ashamed  to  go  to 
sleep ;  but  when  I  play  the  fool,  you  are  all  eye  and  ear ! " 

A  curious  habit  is  recorded  of  Lassenius.  He  used  to 
stop  in  the  middle  of  his  sermon  and  take  a  glass  of  wine 
or  other  cordial.  This  practice  is  being  revived  by  some 
Nonconformist  ministers  in  London,  who  have  a  tumbler 
of  water  by  their  side  in  the  pulpit.  An  old  minister  says, 
that  this  is  owing  to  the  excessive  dryness  which  charac- 
terises them  in  preaching. 

The  intolerable  prolixity  of  many  seventeenth  century 
sermons  may  be  partly  attributable  to  the  fact  that  the 
writers,  or  preachers,  entered  upon  an  exhaustive  exposi- 
tion of  the  terms  before  they  began  to  consider  the  main 
subject  of  their  text.  Sometimes  they  would  go  off  upon 
some  suggestive  word  into  an  infinite  variety  of  allegory 


io8  Prolixity  of  Srornteeiith  Century  Sermotts. 

and  parable.  Then  they  introduced  quotations  from  all 
sorts  of  Greek  and  Latin  profane  authors.  Others  made 
use  of  ridicule  and  buffoonish  banter.  Sometimes  they  sat 
down  to  pause  and  rest  themselves,  to  clear  their  throats, 
and  to  adjust  their  disordered  gowns  and  cassocks.  Some 
took  a  drop  of  cordial.  Some  prolonged  the  time  by 
trifling  historical  statements,  something  like  that  of  Urban 
Chevreau,  the  French  critic,  elsewhere  mentioned,  who 
gravely  informed  the  readers  of  his  "  History  of  the 
World,"  that  "  it  was  created  the  6th  of  September,  on 
a  Friday,  a  little  after  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon." 

Bishop  Burnet,  in  the  "  History  of  his  Own  Times," 
mentions  a  Dr  Case  who  wrote  a  book  with  this  title, 
"  The  Angelical  Guide ;  shewing  Men  and  Women  their 
Lot  and  Chance  in  this  Elementary  Life."  The  work  is 
very  astrological  and  very  profound ;  for  instance,  the 
author  states  that  "  Adam  was  created  in  that  pleasant 
place  called  Paradise,  about  the  year  before  Christ  4002 
— viz.,  on  April  the  24th,  at  twelve  o'clock  at  midnight." 

MICHAEL  LE  FAUCHEUR, 

A  French  Huguenot  minister,  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
excelled  so  greatly  as  a  preacher,  that  he  was  invited  to 
remove  from  Montpeher  to  Charenton,  where  he  was 
much  followed  and  admired.  His  discourses  contained  a 
happy  mixture  of  solidity  and  pathos,  and  were  recom- 
mended by  the  charms  of  an  animated  and  eloquent  deli- 
very. He  once  preached  with  such  energy  and  weight  of 
reasoning  against  duelling,  that  the  Marquis  de  la  Force, 
who  was  one  of  his  audience,  declared  in  the  presence  of 
several  military  men,  that  if  a  challenge  were  sent  to  him 
he  would  not  accept  of  it. 


La  Rue — Father  Bridaine.  109 


LA  RUE, 

When  destined  for  the  pulpit,  took  lessons  in  declamation 
from  the  celebrated  actor.  Baron,  with  whom  he  was  well 
acquainted.  He  soon  became  the  favourite  preacher  at 
court  and  throughout  the  capital.  Voltaire  says  that  he 
had  two  sermons,  entitled,  "  The  Sinner  Dying,"  and 
"  The  Sinner  Dead,"  which  were  so  popular,  that  public 
notice  was  given  by  bills  when  they  were  to  be  preached. 
It  was  thought  extraordinary  that  one  who  so  much  ex- 
celled in  declamation  should  read  his  discourses,  instead 
of  repeating  them  from  memory ;  but  he  contended  that 
not  only  time  was  saved  by  the  indulgence,  but  that  the 
preacher,  at  ease  with  his  notes  before  him,  could  deliver 
a  discourse  with  greater  animation. 

FATHER  BRIDAINE. 

A  French  itinerant  preacher  of  the  last  century,  who,  in 
a  mixture  of  eccentricity  and  fervid  eloquence,  combined 
the  two  most  powerful  agencies  by  which  a  vulgar  auditory 
are  attracted  and  moved,  once  wound  up  a  discourse  by 
the  announcement  that  he  would  attend  each  of  his  hearers 
to  his  home  ;  and  putting  himself  at  their  head,  conducted 
them  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living — a  neighbouring 
churchyard. 

M.  SANTEUL, 

A  celebrated  French  author  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
coming  into  company  after  having  attended  a  very  dull 

discourse,  delivered  by  the  Abbe  C ,  observed  to  his 

friends,  that  the  abbe  had  done  better  the  year  before. 
"He  did  not  preach  then,"  replied  one  of  the  persons 
present.  "  That  is  the  very  thing  I  mean,"  replied  M, 
Santeul. 


I  TO  Father  Chatenier — -Jeafi  Claude. 


FATHER  CHATENIER,  THE  DOMINICAN, 

Who  preached  at  Paris  in  the  year  1715-1717,  felt  much 
incensed,  on  one  occasion,  on  account  of  the  behaviour  of 
some  impudent  youths,  who  attended  his  sermons  only 
to  laugh.  After  some  severe  remarks  on  the  indecency 
of  such  conduct,  he  exclaimed,  "  After  your  death,  whither 
do  you  think  that  you  will  go  ?  To  the  ball  ?  To  the 
opera  ?  To  the  assembly  where  beautiful  women  are 
found  ?  No  !  to  the  fire  !  to  the  fire  !  "  These  last 
words  he  pronounced  in  a  voice  so  strong  and  terrible, 
that  he  thoroughly  alarmed  his  hearers.  Many  of  them 
instantly  quitted  their  seats  and  rushed  from  the  assembly, 
as  if  the  flames  were  actually  in  the  church,  and  the  place 
of  their  sin  were  to  be  immediately  the  scene  of  their 
punishment. 

JEAN  CLAUDE, 

The  celebrated  French  Protestant  preacher,  (born  16 19,) 
though  elegant  and  impressive,  had  not  a  pleasing  voice. 
Hence  Moris  wittily  observed,  that  ''  all  voices  were  for 
him  except  his  own."  The  last  sermon  which  Claude 
preached  was  at  the  Hague,  on  Christmas  Day,  1686, 
before  the  Princess  of  Orange,  who  is  said  to  have  been 
deeply  affected.  A 'few  days  after  he  was  seized  with 
fatal  illness,  and  expired  on  the  thirteenth  of  January, 
1687, 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  GREAT  FRENCH  PREACHERS  OF  THE  SEVENTEENTH 
AND  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURIES. 


ESPRIT  FLECHIER 

AS  born  in  1632  at  Pernes,  near  Carpentras, 
Vaucluse.  Pie  acquired  a  high  reputation  in 
France  for  his  sermons,  especially  his  funeral 
orations.  In  1685  he  was  made  Bishop  of 
Nismes  by  Lewis  XIV. ;  who,  however,  consented  re- 
luctantly to  part  with  one  to  whose  discourses  he  always 
listened  with  delight,  and,  let  us  hope,  with  edification. 
Flechier  is  remarkable  for  the  purity  of  his  language, 
and  the  elegance  of  his  style.  Every  sentence  closes 
with  a  musical  cadence.  He  has  been  called  the  Iso- 
crates  of  France.  He  was  not,  however,  merely  an 
adroit  stringer  together  of  sweet  words ;  his  ideas  are 
often  grand  and  lofty.  Always  meUifluous,  he  is  often 
piercing  and  animated.  He  died  at  Montpellier  in  1710. 
The  following  passage  may  be  quoted  as  a  fair  specimen 
of  his  language  : — 


II 2  Esprit  Flechier. 


Exordium  of  the  Funeral  Oration  on  Marshal 
Turen?ie, 

"  I  cannot,  sirs,  give  you  a  loftier  idea  of  the  sorrowful 
subject  which  I  am  about  to  discuss,  than  by  recalling  the 
noble  and  expressive  terms  in  which  the  Holy  Bible  praises 
the  life  and  deplores  the  death  of  Maccabseus ;  that  hero, 
who  carried  the  fame  of  his  nation  to  the  very  ends  of  the 
earth ;  who  covered  his  camp  with  his  buckler,  and  forced 
that  of  his  enemies  with  his  sword ;  who  inflicted  on  the 
kings  opposed  to  him  mortal  pains ;  who,  by  his  virtues 
and  exploits,  caused  Jacob  to  rejoice,  and  whose  glory  is 
eternal. 

"This  man,  who  defended  the  cities  of  Judah,  who 
tamed  the  pride  of  the  children  of  Ammon  and  Esau  ; 
who  came  back  from  Samaria,  loaded  with  spoil;  after 
having  burnt  on  their  own  altars  the  idols  of  the  heathen ; 
— this  man,  whom  God  had  placed  around  Israel  like  a 
wall  of  brass,  against  which  all  the  forces  of  Asia  battered 
in  vain ;  and  who,  after  having  defeated  numerous  armies, 
disconcerted  the  boldest  and  most  able  generals  of  the 
kings  of  Syria,  came  every  year,  with  the  poor  remnant  of 
the  Israelites,  to  repair  with  his  triumphant  hands  the 
ruins  of  the  sanctuary;  and  did  not  require  any  other 
recompense  for  the  services  which  he  rendered  to  his 
country  than  the  honour  of  having  served  her; — this 
valiant  man,  pushing  back  with  invincible  bravery  the 
enemies  whom  he  had  put  to  disgraceful  flight,  received  a 
mortal  stroke,  and  rested  as  though  buried  in  the  very 
moment  of  triumph. 

"  At  the  first  noise  of  this  sad  event,  all  the  cities  of 
Judah  were  moved.     Fountains  of  tears  flowed  from  the 


Esprit  Flcchier.  113 


eyes  of  all  the  people.  For  a  time  they  were  stunned, 
dumb,  immovable.  A  burst  of  grief  at  length  broke  the 
long,  sad  silence.  With  voices  interrupted  by  sobs,  which 
sorrow,  pity,  fear,  combined  to  form  in  their  hearts,  they 
cried  out,  '  How  is  that  puissant  hero  dead,  who  saved  the 
people  of  Israel ! '  At  this  cry  Jerusalem  redoubled  its 
lamentation.  The  vault  of  the  temple  shook.  Jordan  was 
troubled,  and  all  its  streams  flowed  backward  at  the  sound 
of  these  woeful  words,  '  How  is  the  puissant  hero  dead 
who  saved  the  people  of  Israel ! '  " 

Take  also  the  following  : — 

*'  The  world  has  nothing  solid,  nothing  durable :  it  is 
only  a  fashion,  and  a  fashion  which  passeth  away.  Yes, 
sirs,  the  tQr\derest  frie?ids/iips  end.  Honou?'s  are  specious 
titles,  which  time  effaces.  Pleasures  are  amusements,  which 
leave  only  a  lasting  and  painful  repentance.  Riches  are 
torn  from  us  by  the  violence  of  men,  or  escape  us  by 
their  own  instability.  Grandeurs  moulder  away  of  them- 
selves. Glory  and  reputation  at  length  lose  themselves  in 
the  abysses  of  an  eternal  oblivion.  So  rolls  the  torrent  of 
this  world,  whatever  pains  are  taken  to  stop  it.  Every- 
thing is  carried  away  by  a  rapid  train  of  passing  moments, 
and  by  continual  revolutions  we  arrive,  frequently  without 
thinking  of  it,  at  that  fatal  point  where  time  finishes  and 
eternity  begins. 

"  Happy  then  the  Christian  soul  who,  obeying  the  pre- 
cept of  Jesus  Christ,  loves  not  the  world,  nor  anything 
that  composes  it ;  who  wisely  uses  it  as  a  mean,  without 
irregularly  cleaving  to  it  as  his  end ;  who  knows  how  to 
rejoice  without  dissipation,  to  sorrow  without  despair,  to 
desire  without  anxiety,  to  acquire  without  injustice,  to 
possess  without  pride,  and  to  lose  without  pain  !     Happy 

H 


114  Louis  Bourdaloue  the  Jesuit. 

yet  farther  the  soul  who,  rising  above  itself  in  spite  of  the 
body  which  encumbers  it,  remounts  to  its  origin  ;•  passes 
without  pausing  beyond  created  things,  and  happily  loses 
itself  in  the  bosom  of  its  Creator !  " — Flech.  Orais.  funeb. 
de  Mcuiaffie  d*  Aiguillon. 


LOUIS  BOURDALOUE  THE  JESUIT 

Was  born  at  Bourges  in  1632.  As  soon  as  he  began  to 
preach  in  Paris,  in  1669,  he  was  followed  by  an  enormous 
crowd  of  admirers,  including  the  ablest  men  of  the  age. 
Each  discourse  which  he  delivered  was  more  attractive 
than  that  which  had  gone  before  it  j  so  that  Madame  de 
Sevigne  said,  "  Bourdaloue  surpasses  in  every  sermon  all 
his  most  brilliant  passages;  and  no  one  has  XQdlXy preached 
before  this  time."  On  another  occasion  she  remarked, 
*'  The  argument  was  carried  out  in  the  highest  perfection ; 
and  certain  points  pressed  as  they  might  have  been  pressed 
by  the  Apostle  St  Paul."  The  quality  which  predominates 
in  Bourdaloue  is  severe  logic :  it  is  as  hard  to  prove  and 
reason  hke  him  as  it  is  to  touch  the  conscience  and  gratify 
the  imagination  hke  Massillon.  The  reputation  for  elo- 
quence which  this  celebrated  preacher  very  early  acquired, 
reaching  the  ears  of  Lewis  XIV.,  his  majesty  sent  for  him 
to  preach  the  advent  sermon  in  1670;  which  he  did  with 
such  success  that  he  was  retained  for  many  years  after  as 
a  preacher  at  court.  He  was  called  the  king  of  preachers, 
and  the  preacher  to  kings ;  and  Lewis  himself  said  that  he 
would  rather  hear  the  repetitions  of  Bourdaloue  than  the 
novelties  of  another.  With  a  collected  air  Bourdaloue 
had  little  action ;  he  kept  bis  eyes  generally  half  closed, 
and  penetrated  the  hearts  of  the  people  by  the  sound  of 


Louis  Bourdaloue  the  Jesuit.  115 

a  voice  uniform  and  solemn.  On  one  occasion  he  turned 
the  peculiarity  of  his  external  aspect  to  very  memorable 
advantage.  After  depicting  in  soul-awakening  terms  a 
sinner  of  the  first  magnitude,  he  suddenly  opened  his 
eyes,  and  casting  them  full  on  the  king,  who  sat  opposite 
to  him,  he  added,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  Thou  art  the 
man!"  The  effect  was  magical,  confounding.  When  he 
had  finished  his  discourse  he  immediately  went,  and  throw- 
ing himself  at  the  feet  of  his  sovereign,  "  Sire,"  said  he, 
"behold  at  your  feet  one  who  is  the  most  devoted  of  your 
servants;  but  punish  him  not  that  in  the  pulpit  he  can 
own  no  other  master  than  the  King  of  kings."  Some  have 
thought  him  too  terse  in  his  style,  and  too  cold  in  his 
ratiocination,  for  a  Christian  orator.  He  died  at  Paris  in 
1704,  the  same  year  as  Bossuet,  his  great  rival.  The  fol- 
lowing remarks  are  equally  distinguished  for  truth  and 
originality : — 

Almsgiving. 
"  The  times  are  bad.  Every  one  is  suffering.  Is  it  not 
therefore  the  dictate  of  prudence  to  think  of  the  future, 
and  to  save  one's  money?  This  is  what  prudence  sug- 
gests ;  a  prudence  which  deserves  reproof;  a  carnal  pru- 
dence, and  the  enemy  of  God.  That  all  are  suffering 
and  inconvenienced,  I  admit.  Never  was  pride,  never 
was  luxury,  greater  than  it  is  to-day.  Who  knows  whether 
it  is  not  for  this  that  God  is  chastising  us  1  God,  I  say, 
who,  according  to  the  Scripture,  holds  the  poor,  proud 
man  in  abhorrence!  But  once  more,  I  want  to  say  it, 
the  times  are  bad.  And  what  are  we  to  conclude  from 
that?  If  everybody  is  suffering,  do  not  the  poor  suffer? 
And  if  the   ordinary    sufferings    of  the   poor  are   four/A 


Ii6  S/^ecimens  of  his  Style. 

among  the  rich,  to  what  a  depth  of  distress  must  the  poor 
themselves  be  reduced  ?  To  whom  does  it  belong  as  a 
duty  to  assist  those  who  suffer  more,  so  much  as  to  them 
who  suffer  less  ?  Do  you,  therefore,  reason  well  when  you 
say  that  you  have  a  right  to  hold  back  your  superfluity 
because  the  times  are  bad?  It  is  just  on  that  account  that 
you  cannot  keep  it  back  without  heinous  sin,  and  that 
you  lie  under  a  special  obligation  to  give  it  away." 

Da7igers  of  the  IVor/d. 
"  If  I  find  myself  alone  and  without  a  guide  in  a  fright- 
ful desert,  exposed  to  all  the  risks  of  wandering  without 
hope  of  return,  I  am  filled  with  mortal  terror.  If  in  some 
pressing  sickness  I  feel  myself  abandoned,  having  nobody 
but  myself  to  watch  over  me,  I  dare  no  longer  count  upon 
my  recovery.  If,  in  a  crisis  of  my  affairs,  in  which  not  only 
my  fortune,  but  my  very  Hfe  is  involved,  I  have  no  other 
counsellor  but  myself,  I  feel  myself  hopeless  and  lost,  how 
then  in  the  world,  where  so  many  rocks  and  snares  sur- 
round me,  and  so  many  perils  threaten  me,  and  so  many 
opportunities  occur  in  which  I  must  perish  unless  I  have 
other  help  than  myself,  can  I  live  in  peace,  and  not  be  in 
a  state  of  continual  alarm?" 

St  Andrew. 
"There,  Christians,  there  is  the  preacher  whom  God 
has  raised  up  for  your  instruction.  It  is  St  Andrew  upon 
the  cross.  Pay  no  longer  any  attention  to  my  words,  or 
my  zeal ;  forget  the  sacredness  of  my  ministry ;  it  is  no 
longer  to  me,  it  is  to  this  apostle  that  belongs  the  right  to 
preach  to  you  on  the  cross  of  God  crucified ;  it  belongs  to 
this  crucified  man,  whose  preaching,  far  more  pathetic  and 


Jacques  Beiiigne  Bossiiet.  117 

efficacious  than  mine,  makes  itself  heard  in  all  the  churches 
of  the  Christian  world.  Behold  him,  this  irreproachable 
minister,  this  preacher  to  whom  you  have  not  a  word  to 
reply :  but  has  he  nothing  with  which  to  reproach  you  ? 
He  preaches  to  you  this  day  the  same  God  which  he 
preached  to  the  Jews  and  the  pagans,  a  God  which  has 
saved  you  by  the  cross  ;  do  you  beheve  him  %  It  has  been 
told  you  a  hundred  times,  and  it  is  true,  that  at  the  judg- 
ment of  God  the  cross  will  appear  to  confront  you.  But 
beside  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ  another  will  confront  you 
— that  of  St  Andrew.  Yes,  the  cross  of  this  apostolical 
man,  after  having  served  as  a  pulpit  to  instruct  you,  will 
serve  as  a  tribunal  to  condemn  you.  You  see  these  infidels, 
he  will  say  to  us,  the  sight  of  my  cross  converted  them  : 
instead  of  pagans  I  made  them  Christians.  Behold  that 
which  will  confound  us.  Is  it  not  worth  while  for  us  now, 
by  a  voluntary  confusion  of  soul,  to  anticipate  that  which 
will  be  forced  upon  us,  and  will  be  not  only  useless,  but 
destructive  % " 

Father  H told  a  French  writer  one  day,  that  when 

Bourdaloue  preached  at  Rouen,  every  artisan  shut  up  his 
shop,  the  merchants  quitted  the  exchange,  the  lawyers  their 
courts,  and  the  physicians  their  patients,  and  gathered  round 
this  celebrated  preacher.      "  When  I  preached  there,"  says 

Father  H ,  "  the  year  following,  I  restored  everything 

to  its  proper  order.  Neither  the  merchant  quitted  his 
business,  nor  the  lawyer  his  court,"  &c. 

JACQUES  BENIGNE  BOSSUET, 

One  of  the  most  sublime  of  the  French  orators,  was  born 
at  Dijon,  12th  March  1627.  He  was  singularly  pre- 
cocious.   At  fifteen  years  of  age  he  was  received  as  a  doc- 


1 1 8  Jacques  Benigiie  Bossitet. 

tor  of  the  Sorbonne ;  at  sixteen  he  delivered  an  extempore 
discourse,  which  excited  enthusiastic  admiration.  He  was 
a  sort  of  universal  genius,  a  philosopher,  historian,  and 
pohtician.  While  he  despised  the  artifices  of  rhetoric,  he 
came  down  upon  his  hearers  with  an  authority  which  was 
irresistible.  His  words  were  sometimes  like  lightning,  and 
filled  the  coldest  hearts  with  alarm.  He  died  at  Paris, 
1 2  th  April  1704. 

The  Power  of  God  in  Creation. 
"The  God  which  the  Hebrews  and  Christians  have 
always  served  has  nothing  in  common  with  the  divinities 
full  of  vice  and  imperfection  which  the  rest  of  the  world 
adores.  Our  God  is  one  infinite  and  perfect;  alone  worthy 
to  punish  crime  and  to  reward  virtue ;  because  He  is  holi- 
ness itself  He  is  infinitely  above  this  first  cause,  this 
motive  power  which  philosophers  have  known  without 
worshipping  it.  Those  among  them  who  are  the  furthest 
removed  from  the  truth  suggest  the  idea  of  a  God  which, 
finding  matter  eternal  and  self-existent  as  much  as  Him- 
self, has  fashioned  it  like  a  vulgar  artist,  contracted  in  his 
work  by  the  conditions  of  this  very  material  which  he  has 
not  made ;  without  being  able  to  comprehend  that  if 
matter  is  of  itself,  it  does  not  need  to  await  its  perfection 
at  the  hand  of  a  stranger ;  and  if,  on  the  other  hand,  God 
is  infinite  and  perfect.  He  does  not  require,  in  order  to 
accomplish  anything  that  He  wishes,  anything  more  than 
Himself  and  His  all-powerful  will.  But  the  God  of  our 
fathers,  the  God  of  Abraham,  the  God  of  whom  Moses  has 
revealed  to  us  such  marvels,  has  not  only  set  in  order  the 
world,  but  has  made  it  entirely  both  in  matter  and  form. 
Before  He  had  given   it  being,  there  was   nothing  but 


specimens  of  his  Style.  119 

Himself.  He  is  represented  to  us  as  the  being  who  has 
made  everything,  and  who  has  made  everything  by  His 
Word,  as  much  because  He  has  made  everything  by  His 
reason,  as  because  He  has  made  everything  without 
trouble,  and  because,  to  make  such  great  works,  nothing 
more  was  required  of  Him  than  a  single  word,  that  is  to 
say.  He  had  only  to  will  and  it  was  done." 

The  Frailty  of  Man. 

"  Great  God,  is  this  all  my  substance  %  I  enter  into  life 
to  go  out  of  it  forthwith.  Like  others,  I  just  show  myself, 
but  I  must  soon  disappear.  Everything  beckons  us  to 
death.  Nature,  as  though  grudging  us  the  good  that  she 
has  done  us,  often  gives  us  to  understand  that  she  cannot 
leave  us  long  the  little  material  she  has  lent  us.  The 
children  which  are  born,  as  they  multiply  and  grow,  elbow 
us  and  say,  *  Retire  j  it  is  now  our  turn  !'  As  we  behold 
others  pass  away  before  us,  others  in  like  manner  will  see 
us  depart  hence,  owing  to  their  successors  the  same  spec- 
tacle. O  God  !  once  more  I  ask,  what  are  we  ?  If  I  cast 
my  eyes  before  me,  how  infinite  is  the  space  in  which  I 
am  not !  If  I  look  back,  how  frightful  is  the  abyss  in 
which  I  no  longer  am !  And  how  minute  a  spot  do  I 
occupy  in  this  immensity  of  time  !  I  am  nothing,  so  small 
is  the  interval  between  me  and  nothingness.  I  seem  only 
sent  to  make  up  a  number.  The  drama  will  not  be  the 
less  played  on  when  I  have  retired  from  the  scene  !" 

The  Royalty  and  Priesthood  of  Jesus  Christ. 
"  It  is  amidst  the  pains  of  death  that  Jesus  Christ  shows 
Himself  our  King  and  High  Priest.     You  may  have  been 
sometimes  offended  to  see  the  blood  of  my  Master  flow ; 


I20  Lewis  XIV.  and  Bossuet. 

you  who  have  believed  that  His  death  was  the  mark  of 
His  powerlessness.  Ah,  how  httle  do  you  understand 
these  mysteries  !  The  cross  of  my  King,  it  is  His  throne ; 
the  cross  of  my  High  Priest,  it  is  His  altar.  This  lacerated 
flesh,  it  is  the  force  and  virtue  of  my  King  !  This  same 
lacerated  flesh  is  the  sacrifice  and  victim  of  my  High 
Priest.  The  blood  of  my  King  is  His  purple.  The  blood 
of  my  High  Priest  is  His  consecration.  My  King  is  in- 
stalled, my  High  Priest  is  consecrated  by  His  blood. 
This  it  is  which  constitutes  Him  the  true  Jesus,  the  only 
Saviour  of  mankind.  O  King  and  Saviour,  and  Sovereign 
Shepherd  of  our  soul,  shed  one  drop  of  that  precious  blood 
on  my  heart,  that  it  may  be  set  on  fire ;  one  drop  on  my 
lips,  that  they  may  be  for  ever  pure  and  holy,  those  Hps 
which  ought  day  by  day  to  pronounce  Thy  adorable 
name." 

When  Bossuet  was  still  a  young  preacher,  Lewis  XIV. 
was  so  delighted  with  him  that  he  wrote  in  his  own  name 
to  his  father,  the  Intendant  of  Soissons,  to  congratulate 
him  on  having  a  son  that  would  immortaUse  himself.  An 
unbeHever  going  to  hear  Bossuet  preach,  said,  on  enter- 
ing the  church,  "  This  is  the  preacher  for  me ;  for  it  is  by 
him  alone  I  know  that  I  shall  be  converted,  if  I  ever 
be  so."  Bossuet  pronounced  the  funeral  oration  on  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans,  who  died  so  suddenly  in  the  midst 
of  a  brilliant  court,  of  which  she  was  the  glory  and  delight. 
No  person  better  possessed  the  talent  of  infusing  into  the 
soul  of  his  auditors  the  profound  sentiments  with  which 
he  himself  was  penetrated.  When  he  pronounced  these 
words,  "  O  nuit  desastreuse,  nuit  eff'royable,  ou  retentit 
tout-a-coup,  comme  un  eclat  de  tonnere,  cette  nouvelle : 
madame  se  meurt,  madame  est  morte  !  "  all  the  court  were 


Jean  Baptiste  Massillon.  121 

in  tears.  The  pathetic  and  the  subHme  shone  equally  in 
this  discourse.  A  sensibiHty  more  sweet,  but  less  sublime, 
is  displayed  in  the  last  words  of  his  funeral  oration  on  the 
great  Conde.  It  was  with  this  fine  discourse  that  Bossuet 
terminated  his  career  of  eloquence.  He  concludes  by 
thus  apostrophising  the  hero  that  France  mourned : 
"  Prince  vous  mettrez  fin  a  tous  ces  discours  !  Au  lieu 
de  deplorer  la  mort  de  sautres,  je  veux  desormais  appren- 
dre  de  vous  a  rendre  la  mienne  sainte ;  heureux  si,  averti 
par  ces  cheveux  blancs,  du  compte  que  je  dois  rendre  de 
mon  administration,  je  re'serve  au  tropeau  que  je  dois 
nourir  de  la  parole  de  vie  le  reste  d'une  voix  qui  tombe, 
et  d'une  ardeur  qui  s'eteint." 

When  Lewis  XIV.  appointed  Bossuet  Bishop  of  Meaux, 
he  was  anxious  to  know  how  his  favourite  ecclesiastic's 
merits  were  appreciated  by  the  inhabitants  of  that  city. 
"  Tolerably,"  was  the  answer  to  the  question.  "  Toler- 
ably ?"  said  the  king.  "  Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  con- 
cerning himT'  "In  truth,"  replied  the  people,  "We 
think  he  must  be  an  inferior  person.  We  should  have 
preferred  a  Bishop  who  had  finished  his  education,  but 
whenever  we  wait  upon  our  diocesan,  we  are  told  that  he 
is  at  his  studies."  This  anecdote  well  satirises  the  pre- 
tentious women  who  have  the  hardihood  to  tell  ignorant 
fathers  and  mothers  that  they  are  capable  of  finishing 
the  education  of  their  daughters. 

MASSILLON. 

Jean  Baptiste  Massillon  was  born  at  Hyeres,  in  Pro- 
vence, in  1663.  While  yet  a  young  man  he  entered  the 
Congregation  of  the  Oratory.  His  early  discourses  pro- 
duced a  lively  impression.     Bourdaloue,  when  he  heard 


122  Ci'iticism  o?i  the  style  of  Massillon. 


him,  said,  "  He  must  increase,  but  I  must  decrease." 
Massillon  is  rarely  sublime ;  his  renown  as  an  orator  rests 
on  the  merit  of  his  style ;  his  diction  is  always  easy, 
elegant,  and  pure,  characterised  by  that  noble  simplicity 
without  which  there  is  neither  good  taste  nor  true  elo- 
quence. He  reminds  the  reader  of  Cicero,  presenting  in 
his  writings  the  same  agreement  of  judgment  and  imagina- 
tion. It  has  been  complained  of  him  that  he  sometimes 
repeats  his  ideas  in  an  affluence  of  words  ;  but  this  can 
hardly  be  deemed  a  fault.  Common  minds  require  such 
repetition  to  understand  an  argument ;  it  was  the  secret 
of  Dr  Chalmers'  force.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  well  to 
warn  young  preachers  that  they  must  not  let  their  words 
run  away  with  them ;  every  paragraph  ought  to  be  nour- 
ished by  wise  and  good  thoughts. 

When  this  illustrious  man  was  asked  where  a  man  like 
him,  whose  life  was  dedicated  to  retirement,  could  borrow 
his  admirable  descriptions  of  real  life,  he  answered,  "  From 
the  human  heart :  however  little  we  may  examine  it,  we 
shall  find  in  it  the  seeds  of  every  passion.  When  I  com- 
pose a  sermon,  I  imagine  myself  consulted  upon  some 
doubtful  piece  of  business.  I  give  my  whole  application 
to  determine  the  person  who  has  recourse  to  me,  to  act 
the  good  and  proper  part.  I  exhort  him,  I  urge  him,  ajid 
J  quit  him  not  till  he  has  yielded  to  7ny  persuasions T 

On  preaching  the  first  Advent  Sermon  at  Marseilles,  Lewis 
XIV.  paid  .the  following  most  expressive  tribute  to  the 
power  of  his  eloquence  : — "  Father,  when  I  hear  others 
preach,  I  am  very  well  pleased  with  them ;  when  I  hear 
you,  I  am  dissatisfied  with  myself" 

Massillon  died  in  1742. 

The  following  account  of  Massillon  is  extracted  from  a 


The  Courage  of  Massillon.  123 

very  able  letter  on  courageous  preaching,  written  by  the 
Paris  correspondent  of  the  Times  newspaper,  20th  August 
1868:— 

"  The  first  time  that  Massillon  appeared  in  the  pulpit 
of  Versailles  was  in  1699  ;  he  was  then  a  simple  priest 
of  the  Society  of  Oratorians ;  he  was  then  only  thirty-six 
years  old,  and  all  his  chances  of  advancement,  if  he  wasted 
a  thought  on  it,  depended  on  the  favour  of  the  sovereign. 
Lewis  XIV.  was  then  in  the  decline  of  life,  and  the  splen- 
dour of  his  long  reign  was  already  darkly  clouded.  The 
great  writers  of  his  time — Corneille,  Moliere,  and  Racine — 
had  long  passed  away ;  and  Boileau  was  leading  the  Hfe 
of  a  hermit  at  Auteuil,  near  Paris.  The  French  army  had 
lost  much  of  its  prestige ;  and  Luxemburg,  with  all  his 
great  qualities  as  a  commander,  had  not  the  success  of 
Conde  or  Turenne.  The  cold  shade  of  Madame  de  Main- 
tenon  hung  over  the  court,  which  was  almost  exclusively 
occupied  with  the  squabbles  on  Quietism  and  Jansenism. 
But  the  pride  of  the  old  king  was  not  tamed ;  and  though 
the  courtiers  might  in  secret  long  for  a  change,  their  master 
was  never  more  formidable  to  them,  and  they  never  were 
more  abject  in  their  obedience.  It  was  at  this  moment 
that  Massillon  came  forth.  Hitherto  he  had  been  only 
known  as  having  preached  for  one  Lent  in  the  Church  of 
the  Oratory,  Rue  St  Honore.  His  first  sermon  in  the 
chapel  of  Versailles  was  pronounced  in  presence  of  the 
king  and  the  highest  nobles  of  the  land  who  formed  his 
court.  He  opened  by  asking  what  was  the  real  motive 
which  brought  together  an  assembly  so  crowded  and  so 
brilliant.     He  says  : — 

"  '  It  is  from  the  desire  to  please  their  master,  by  imitat- 
ing his  respect  for  the  words  of  the  Gospel,  and  to  attract 


1 24  The  Courage  of  Massillon. 


his  attention  rather  than  to  implore  the  Divine  mercy. 
The  eyes  of  all  present  in  this  place  are  turned  towards 
the  prince;  the  prayers  of  all  are  addressed  to  him;  and 
his  profound  prostration  at  the  foot  of  this  altar,  far  from 
teaching  us  to  respect  the  Lord,  before  whom  a  great 
King,  who  has,  as  it  were,  the  cares  of  the  earth  upon 
Him,  bows  down  His  head  and  forgets  all  His  grandeur, 
teaches  us  only  to  make  use  of  religion  for  our  personal 
interests,  and  of  the  favours  with  which  He  honours  virtue, 
or  those  who  assume  it,  and  thus  raise  ourselves  to  new 
dignities  and  grandeur.' 

"  He  then  turns  to  the  ladies  of  the  court : — 

"  '  You  women  of  the  world,  what  good  do  you  seek 
by  displaying  all  this  gorgeous  attire — I  do  not  say  merely 
the  attire  of  luxury  and  vanity,  but  of  immodesty  and  in- 
decency, with  which  you  show  yourselves  in  this  house, 
which  is  a  house  of  tears  and  of  prayer  %  Do  you  wish 
that  there  should  not  be  a  single  spot  of  the  earth,  not 
even  the  temple  itself — the  refuge  of  religion  and  of  piety — 
where  innocence  can  be  protected  from  your  profane  and 
wanton  display?' 

"  His  picture  of  the  world — that  is,  of  the  high  society 
of  the  time — is  not  less  striking : — 

"  '  The  world  is  a  perpetual  servitude,  in  which  no  one 
lives  for  himself^  and  in  which  to  be  happy  he  must  kiss 
his  chains  and  love  his  slavery.  The  world  is  the  daily 
revolution  of  events,  which  awake  by  turns  in  the  hearts 
of  its  worshippers  the  most  violent  and  the  saddest  pas- 
sions, the  most  unrelenting  hatreds,  odious  perplexities, 
bitter  fears,  consuming  jealousies,  crushing  sorrows.  The 
world  is  a  land  of  malediction,  where  pleasure  itself  brings 
with  it  its  thorns  and  its  bitterness.     Play  wearies  by  its 


The  PrcacJiing  of  Massillon,  125 


fury  and  its  caprices ;  conversation  tires  by  the  conflict  of 
humour  and  of  sentiment;  passion  and  criminal  attach- 
ments are  inseparable  from  disgust.  The  world,  in  a 
word,  is  a  place  where  hope  itself — which  is  regarded  as  a 
passion  so  gentle — makes  all  men  unhappy ;  where  those 
who  hope  for  nothing  are  still  more  miserable ;  where  all 
that  pleases  does  not  please  long ;  and  where  weariness  is 
almost  the  mildest  destiny  and  the  most  supportable  that 
most  captivating  aspect ;  it  is  the  world  of  this  court ;  it 
is  not  the  humble  and  obscure  world,  which  knows  neither 
great  pleasure  nor  the  charms  of  prosj^erity,  nor  favour, 
nor  opulence ;  it  is  the  world  in  its  most  brilliant  and 
we  can  expect.  Such  is  the  world,  my  brethren ;  and  it 
is  you  yQurselves,  you  who  are  at  this  moment  listening 
to  me ! ' 

"  The  following  passage,  suggested  by  recent  disasters 
abroad,  and  surpassing  misery  at  home,  strikes  at  the 
king  himself,  his  courtiers,  and  the  whole  nation,  with  a 
boldness  and  majesty  truly  wonderful,  w^hen  we  reflect 
before  whom  it  was  spoken  : — 

"  '■  I  have  already  said  it.  The  anger  of  God  visits  us 
for  our  crimes,  and  the  enormity  of  them  ascends  even  to 
the  throne  of  His  vengeance.  He  has  looked  down  from 
His  eternal  abode,  says  the  prophet— /r^j^^jc//  de  excelso 
sando  suo — and  He  has  seen  the  abominations  which  are 
in  the  midst  of  us  :  the  faithful  without  morals,  the  great 
without  religion,  whose  ministers  themselves  are  without 
piety.  He  has  looked  down  from  heaven,  and  He  has 
seen  these  abominations  honoured  by  His  people ;  rapine 
and  injustice  rewarded  with  titles  and  public  dignities; 
debauchery  and  the  m.ost  frightful  excesses  authorised  by 
the  highest  examples;  monstrous  and  insane   luxury  in- 


126  His  Boldness  and  Fidelity. 

creasing  with  the  pubhc  misery.  Prospexit  de  excelso  sancto 
siio.  He  has  looked  down  from  heaven  and  beheld  a 
pious  sovereign  encircled  by  a  dissolute  court ;  this  cour- 
tier now  among  us,  ever  the  servile  imitator  of  his  master, 
becoming  here  his  secret  censor ;  piety  on  the  throne  be- 
come more  hateful;  crimes  multiplied  by  restraint;  the 
perils  of  debauchery  the  stimulus  to  its  excesses ;  ambition 
under  the  mask  of  piety  obtaining  the  largesses  of  the 
sovereign ;  hypocrisy  enriched  with  benefits  that  should 
recompense  virtue  ;  and  religion  more  dishonoured  by  the 
vices  and  the  artifices  of  the  false  just  than  by  the  Hcen- 
tiousness  of  the  avowed  sinners.  And  then  He  has  poured 
upon  us  the  vials  of  His  wrath.  He  has  given  up  to  the 
sword  of  our  enemies  our  children,  our  husbands,  our 
brothers,  and  our  friends.  He  has  breathed  upon  our 
armies  a  spirit  of  terror  and  panic,  and  He  has  baffled  all 
our  projects.' 

"  The  king  himself  was  not  spared  ;  nor  his  vanity,  his 
sorrows,  or  his  faults  left  untouched.  Massillon  did  not, 
however,  fail  in  respect  to  the  sovereign ;  and  the  deli- 
cately-turned compliment  which  he  addressed  to  Lewis 
XIV.  in  his  first  sermon  at  Versailles  was  followed  by  a 
murmur  of  approbation.  But  he  sacrificed  nothing  to  the 
desire  of  pleasing;  and  to  the  very  last  he  proclaimed  the 
truth  without  fearing  or  caring  for  disgrace.  He  so  little 
feared  disgrace  that,  in  the  presence  of  majesty,  in  his 
third  sermon,  he  compared  the  king  to  David,  '  the  violator 
of  the  sanctity  of  the  marriage  tie.'  Without  hesitation 
or  embarrassment  he  reminded  Lewis  of  RamilHes  and 
Malplaquet : — 

"  *  Battles  lost,  even  when  victory  seemed  most  certain ; 
towns   believed   to    be    impregnable    falling    before    our 


The  Eloquence  of  Massillon.  127 

enemies ;  states  and  provinces  wrested  from  us ;  the  most 
flourishing  kingdom  of  Europe  visited  by  all  the  calami- 
ties that  God  can  pour  out  upon  nations  in  His  anger ; 
the  court  clothed  in  mourning,  and  the  whole  of  the  royal 
race  all  but  extinct, — such,  sire,  is  what  the  Lord  in  His 
mercy  has  reserved  to  try  your  piety.' 

"  These  sermons  give  us  an  idea  of  the  liberty  and  in- 
dependence which,  even  under  the  despotic  rule  of  Lewis, 
before  whom  the  proudest  humbled  themselves,  the  pulpit 
of  the  royal  chapel  of  Versailles  enjoyed.  Its  preachers 
proclaimed  what  they  believed  to  be  the  truth ;  and  the 
king  Hstened  to  sermons  which  were  not  mere  hohday 
discourses,  meant  to  procure  him  a  pleasing  distraction, 
and  were  still  less  insipid  adulations  to  the  courtiers." 

The  following  passage  is  taken  from  his  celebrated 
sermon  on  the  small  number  of  the  elect,  which  occa- 
sioned many  of  the  audience  to  rise  from  their  seats, 
struck  with  an  instant  terror  lest  they  should  not  be  of 
the  number : — 

"  If  you  know  to  what  obligations  the  title  of  Christian, 
which  you  bear,  binds  you  ;  if  you  understand  the  holiness 
of  your  state — how  much  it  prescribes  to  you  a  faithful  life, 
a  continual  vigilance,  precautions  against  the  temptations 
of  sensual  gratification ;  in  a  word,  conformity  to  Jesus 
Christ  crucified ,  if  you  would  comprehend  it ;  if  you 
would  consider,  that  before  loving  God  with  all  your  heart, 
and  all  your  strength,  a  single  desire  which  does  not  relate 
to  Him  would  defile  you  ;  if  you  could  comprehend  this, 
you  would  find  yourself  a  monster  before  His  eyes.  What 
would  you  say  of  obligations  so  holy,  and  manners  so  pro- 
fane ;  a  vigilance  so  continual,  and  a  life  so  careless  and 
dissipated  %    A  love  of  God  so  pure,  so  full,  so  universal, 


128  On  the  Si  nail  Numher  of  the  Elect, 

and  a  heart  always  a  prey  to  a  thousand  affections,  either 
strange  or  criminal  %  If  it  be  thus,  O  my  God,  who  then 
can  be  saved  %  Few  people,  my  dear  audience  ;  it  will 
not  be  you,  unless  you  are  changed  !  It  will  not  be  those 
who  resemble  you  !     It  will  not  be  the  multitude  ! 

"  Who  then  can  be  saved  %  Do  you  wish  to  know  %  It 
will  be  those  who  work  out  their  salvation  with  fear ;  who 
live  amidst  the  world,  but  who  live  not  as  the  world. 

"  Who  can  be  saved  %  That  Christian  woman  w^ho, 
confined  to  the  circle  of  her  domestic  affairs,  educates  her 
children  in  faith  and  piety,  leaving  to  the  Almighty  the 
decision  of  their  destiny  ;  who  is  adorned  with  chastity 
and  modesty  \  who  does  not  sit  in  the  assembly  of  the 
vain ;  who  does  not  make  for  herself  a  law  of  the  foolish 
customs  of  the  world,  but  corrects  those  customs  by  the 
law  of  God,  and  gives  credit  to  virtue  by  her  rank  and 
example. 

"  Who  can  be  saved  %  That  faithful  man  who,  in  these 
degenerate  days,  imitates  the  manners  of  the  primitive 
Christians,  whose  hands  are  innocent  and  body  pure  ;  that 
watchful  man,  who  has  not  received  his  soul  in  vain,  but 
who,  even  amidst  the  dangers  of  high  life,  continually  ap- 
plies himself  to  purify  it ;  that  just  man,  who  does  not 
use  deception  towards  his  neighbour,  and  who  owes  not  to 
doubtful  means  the  innocent  increase  of  his  fortune  j  that 
generous  man,  who  loads  with  benefits  the  enemy  who 
wishes  to  destroy  him,  and  injures  not  his  rivals,  except 
by  superior  merit ;  that  sincere  man,  who  does  not  sacri- 
fice truth  to  a  contemptible  interest,  and  who  knows  not 
how  to  please  in  betraying  his  conscience ;  that  charitable 
man,  who  makes  of  his  house  and  credit  the  asylum  of  his 
brethren,  and  of  his  person  the  consolation  of  the  afflicted  j 


0}i  {he  Small  Number  of  the  Elect.  129 

that  man  who  uses  his  wealth  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor, 
who  is  submissive  in  afflictions,  a  Christian  in  injuries, 
penitent  even  in  prosperity. 

"  Who  can  be  saved  %  You,  my  dear  hearers,  if  you 
will  follow  these  examples.  Behold,  these  are  the  people 
who  will  be  saved ;  but  these  certainly  do  not  constitute 
the  greatest  number. 

"  There  is  perhaps  no  person  here,  who  cannot  say  to 
himself,  '  I  live  as  the  majority,  as  those  of  my  rank,  of  my 
age,  and  of  my  condition.  I  am  lost  if  I  die  in  this  state  ! 
But  what  is  more  calculated  to  frighten  a  soul,  to  whom 
there  remains  something  to  be  done  for  its  salvation  % 
Nevertheless,  it  is  the  multitude  who  tremble  not.  Only 
a  small  number  of  pious  persons  work  out  their  salvation 
with  fear ;  all  the  rest  are  calm.  One  knows,  in  general, 
that  the  majority  of  mankind  are  lost ;  but  he  flatters  him- 
self that,  after  having  lived  with  the  multitude,  he  will  be 
distinguished  from  them  in  death.  Each  one  puts  himself 
in  the  case  of  chimerical  exception, — each  augurs  favourably 
for  himself;  and  it  is  on  this  account  I  address  myself  to 
you,  my  brethren,  who  are  here  assembled.  I  speak  no 
more  of  the  rest  of  men ;  I  regard  you  as  if  you  alone 
were  upon  the  earth  ;  and  behold  the  thoughts  which 
occupy  and  terrify  me  !  I  suppose  that  this  is  your  last 
moment,  and  the  end  of  the  universe  ;  that  the  heavens 
are  going  to  open  over  your  heads,  Jesus  Christ  to  appear 
in  His  glory  in  the  middle  of  this  temple  j  and  that  you  are 
assembled  here  only  to  expect  Him,  and  as  trembling  crimi- 
nals, on  whom  He  is  going  to  pronounce  a  sentence  of  par- 
don, or  a  decree  of  eternal  death  :  because  it  is  in  vain  for 
you  to  flatter  yourselves  that  you  shall  die  better  than  you 
are  at  this  time.     All  those  designs  which  amuse  you  now, 

I 


130  On  the  Small  Ntmiher  of  the  Elect. 

will  amuse  you  even  to  the  bed  of  death  ;  it  is  the  expe- 
rience of  all  ages  :  everything  that  you  will  then  find  new 
in  yourselves,  will  be  perhaps  an  account  a  little  greater 
than  that  which  you  would  have  to  render  on  this  day ; 
and  from  what  you  would  be,  if  He  should  come  to  judge 
you  in  the  present  moment,  you  can  almost  with  certainty 
decide  what  you  will  be  at  departing  from  this  life.  But  I 
demand  of  you,  and  I  demand  it  of  you  struck  with  horror, 
not  separating  in  this  point  my  lot  from  yours,  and  putting 
myself  in  the  same  state  in  which  I  wish  that  I  should  be ; 
I  ask  you,  then,  if  Jesus  Christ  should  appear  in  this  temple, 
in  the  midst  of  this  assembly,  the  most  august  in  the  world, 
for  the  purpose  of  judging  us,  in  order  to  make  the  just 
discrimination  between  the  good  and  the  bad,  do  you  be- 
heve  that  the  majority  of  us  who  are  here  assembled  would 
be  placed  on  the  right  %  Do  you  believe  that  the  num- 
ber would  be  equal  ?  Do  you  believe  that  He  would 
find  here  ten  pious  men,  which  the  Almighty  could  not 
formerly  find  in  five  populous  cities  ?  I  demand  it  of  you. 
You  are  ignorant  of  it ;  and  I  am  ignorant  of  it  myself. 
Thou  alone,  O  my  God,  knowest  those  who  belong  to  Thee ! 
But  if  we  know  not  those  who  belong  to  Him,  we  know  at 
least  that  sinners  do  not  belong  to  Him.  But  who  are  the 
faithful  ones  here  assembled  %  Titles  and  dignities  ought 
to  be  counted  as  nothing ;  you  will  be  deprived  of  them 
before  Jesus  Christ.  Whoarediey?  Many  sinners  who  do  not 
wish  to  be  converted  ;  still  more  who  wish  it,  but  who  de- 
fer their  conversion  ;  many  others  who  are  converted,  only 
to  fall  again  into  sin.  In  fine,  a  great  number  who  believe 
they  have  no  need  of  conversion  ;  these  are  the  reprobate. 
Withdraw  these  four  sorts  of  sinners  from  this  holyassembly, 
for  they  will  be  withdrawn  from  it  on  that  great  day. 


FatJicr  Gonthier^  the  Jesuit  131 


"  Appear  now,  ye  just ;  where  are  you  ?  Remains  of 
Israel,  pass  to  the  right.  Wheat  of  Jesus  Christ,  separate 
from  this  straw  destined  to  the  fire.  O  God  !  where  are 
Thy  elect?" 

FATHER  GONTHIER,  THE  JESUIT. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of  courageous 
preaching  is  recorded  concerning  this  Jesuit.  He  was 
preaching  at  Saint  Gervais,  in  Paris,  before  King  Henry 
IV.  Mademoiselle  d'Entragues,  one  of  his  many  mis- 
tresses, was  present,  and  tried  to  make  the  king  laugh. 
The  preacher  paused,  and  suddenly  addressing  Henry 
with  righteous  indignation,  exclaimed,  "  Sire,  I  trust  that 
you  will  never  allow  yourself  any  more  to  come  to  hear 
the  word  of  God  surrounded  by  a  seraglio,  nor  to  offer  so 
awful  a  scandal  in  the  house  of  the  Lord."  Notwithstand- 
ing his  prominent  vices,  Henry  IV.  was  always  just, 
sensible,  and  tolerant.  The  Marchioness  of  Verneuil,  by 
which  title  the  young  lady  was  distinguished,  tried  every 
art  to  procure  the  punishment  of  Gonthier.  Henry  only 
smiled  at  her  fury,  and  came  the  day  following  again  to 
hear  the  brave  Jesuit  preach.  The  monarch  took  the 
opportunity,  however,  of  w^hispering  in  his  ear,  "  Reverend 
Father,  do  not  be  frightened.  I  thank  you  for  your  re- 
proof, only,  for  Heaven's  sake,  don't  give  it  again  in 
public." 

JULIUS  MASCARON 

Was  born  at  Marseilles  in  1634,  and  died  Bishop  of  Agen 
in  1703.  When  he  preached  before  the  French  court  in 
1666  and  1667,  some  envious  persons  would  have  made 
a  crime  of  the  boldness  and  freedom  with  which  he  pro- 
claimed the  gospel  to  King  Lewis  XIV.     His  Majesty 


13  2  Saw'ln,  the  Huguenot. 

rebuked  the  detractors,  saying,  "  Gentlemen,  he  has  done 
his  duty ;  let  us  do  ours."  Preaching  again  before  that 
monarch,  twenty  years  afterwards,  Lewis  was  so  much 
pleased  that  he  paid  him  this  elegant  compliment :  "  Your 
eloquence  alone  neither  wears  out  nor  grows  old."  The 
name  of  Mascaron  is  now  forgotten.  His  writings  are 
buried  in  the  dust  of  oblivion.  Yet  there  was  a  time  when 
all  France  was  filled  with  his  praises,  and  his  funeral  ora- 
tions were  considered  models  of  eloquence. 

SAURIN,  THE  HUGUENOT. 

The  celebrated  Saurin,  when  one  of  the  pastors  to  the 
French  Refugees  at  the  Hague,  was  constantly  attended 
in  his  public  ministrations  by  a  crowded  and  brilHant  audi- 
ence. His  style  was  pure,  unaffected,  and  eloquent;  some- 
times enriched  with  flowery  metaphor,  sometimes  simple ; 
never  turgid  or  bombastic.  "  In  the  introduction  to  his 
sermons,"  says  Mr  Robinson,  who  translated  them,  "  he 
used  to  deliver  himself  in  a  tone  modest  and  low.  In  the 
body  of  the  sermon,  which  was  adapted  to  the  understand- 
ing, he  was  plain,  clear,  and  argumentative,  pausing  at 
the  close  of  each  period  that  he  might  discover  by  the 
countenances  and  motion  of  his  hearers  whether  they 
were  convinced  by  his  reasoning.  In  his  addresses  to  the 
wicked  (and  it  is  a  folly  to  preach  as  if  there  were 
none  in  our  assembhes)  M.  Saurin  was  often  sonorous, 
but  oftener  a  weeping  suppliant  at  their  feet.  In  the  one 
he  sustained  the  authoritative  dignity  of  his  office;  in  the 
other  he  expressed  his  Master's  and  his  own  benevolence 
to  bad  men,  '  praying  them,  in  Christ's  stead,  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  God.'  In  general  his  preaching  resembled  a 
plentiful  shower  of  dew,  softly  and  imperceptibly  insinuat- 


Peter  dii  Bosc.  133 


ing  itself  into  the  minds  of  his  numerous  hearers,  as  the 
dew  into  the  pores  of  plants,  till  all  the  church  was  dis- 
solved, and  all  in  tears  under  his  sermons."  He  was  some- 
times called  the  Huguenot  Bossuet.  He  was  born  in 
1677,  and  died  in  1730. 

The  first  time  that  Abbadie,  the  celebrated  Calvinist 
minister,  heard  M.  Saurin  preach,  he  exclaimed,  "  Is  it  an 
angel  or  a  man  that  speaks?" 

Of  another  Huguenot  minister  it  was  archly  said  :  He 
has  two  wonderful  attributes—  he  is  invisible  all  the  week, 
that  he  may  be  incomprehensible  on  Sundays. 

PETER  DU  BOSC 

Was  esteemed  the  greatest  preacher  of  his  time  among  the 
French  Protestants.  He  became  so  famous  that  a  depu- 
tation was  sent  from  Paris  to  Caen,  the  place  of  his  minis- 
try, to  invite  him  to  accept  of  the  church  at  Charenton ;  but 
though  the  application  was  supported  by  all  the  influence 
of  the  most  eminent  Huguenots,  nothing  could  induce 
Du  Bosc  to  leave  his  flock  at  Caen,  to  whom  he  had  be- 
come much  endeared.  Some  years  after,  in  consequence 
of  having  denounced  auricular  confession  in  the  pulpit,  an 
order  was  procured  for  his  banishment  to  Chalons.  As  he 
passed  through  Paris,  on  his  way  to  that  place,  he  made 
such  an  adroit  explanation  of  his  offence  to  Monsieur  le 
TreUier,  as,  after  the  lapse  of  some  months,  led  to  the 
recall  of  the  sentence  against  him.  The  joy  which  his 
return  gave  to  the  people  of  Caen  knew  no  bounds.  Even 
those  of  opposite  opinions  concurred  in  congratulating 
him  ;  among  others,  a  cynical  Roman  Catholic  gentleman 
of  distinction,  who  was  pleased  to  celebrate  the  event 
in  the  following  extraordinary  manner.     Du  Bosc's  bio- 


134  Pascal. 


grapher  says  of  this  person  :  ''  His  life  was  not  very  regular, 
but  he  made  an  open  profession  of  loving  those  pastors 
who  were  endowed  with  brilliant  talents.  He  was  par- 
ticularly enamoured  with  the  merit  of  M.  Du  Bosc.  He 
determined  to  solemnise  the  occasion  with  a  feast.  He 
took  two  Cordeliers,  whom  he  knew  to  be  of  a  convivial 
turn,  and  made  them  drink  so  much  wine  that  one  of 
them  died  on  the  spot.  He  visited  Mons.  Du  Bosc  the 
next  day,  and  told  him  that  he  thought  himself  obliged 
to  sacrifice  a  monk  to  the  public  joy ;  that  the  oblation 
would  have  been  a  Jesuit  if  he  could  have  procured  one, 
but  he  hoped  Du  Bosc  would  not  be  displeased  though  it 
was  but  a  CordeHer." 

PASCAL. 

The  following  eloquent  tribute  to  the  great  French 
logician  is  extracted  from  the  memoirs  of  Dr  Chalmers 
by  his  son-in-law  the  Reverend  William  Hanna  : — 

"  My  confinement  (during  sickness)  has  fixed  on  my 
heart  a  very  strong  impression  of  the  insignificance  of 
time — an  impression  which  I  trust  will  not  abandon  me, 
though  I  again  reach  the  heyday  of  health  and  vigour. 
This  should  be  the  first  step  to  another  impression  still 
more  salutary — the  magnitude  of  eternity.  Strip  human 
life  of  its  connexion  with  a  higher  scene  of  existence,  and 
it  is  the  illusion  of  an  instant — an  unmeaning  farce — a 
series  of  visions,  and  projects,  and  convulsive  efforts, 
which  terminate  in  nothing.  I  have  been  reading  Pas- 
cal's "  Thoughts  on  Religion."  You  know  his  history — a 
man  of  the  richest  endowments,  and  whose  youth  was 
signalised  by  his  profound  and  original  speculations  in 
mathematical  science,  but  who  could  stop  short  in  the 


The  Abbe  Beaiivais.  135 


brilliant  career  of  discovery,  who  could  resign  all  the 
splendours  of  Hterary  reputation,  who  could  renounce 
without  a  sigh  all  the  distinctions  which  are  conferred 
upon  genius,  and  resolve  to  devote  every  talent  and  every 
hour  to  the  defence  and  illustration  of  the  gospel.  This, 
my  dear  sir,  is  superior  to  all  Greek  and  to  all  Roman 
fame." 

THE  AEB^  BEAUVAIS, 

Preaching  before  Lewis  XV.,  is  said  to  have  resolved, 
if  possible,  either  to  get  into  a  bishopric  or  into  the  Bas- 
tille. He  thundered  from  the  pulpit  against  the  scandal- 
ous life  of  the  monarch,  and  alluded,  in  terms  that  could 
not  be  misunderstood,  to  his  connexion  with  Madame  Du 
Barry.  This  lady,  knowing  her  portrait,  entreated  the 
king  to  punish  him ;  but  he  observed,  with  his  usual  mild- 
ness of  disposition,  that  a  preacher  could  not  always  be 
answerable  for  the  application  which  his  auditors  might 
make.  Madame  Du  Barry,  however,  the  same  evening 
wrote  the  following  letter  to  the  abbe  : — 

"  Sir, — You  have  preached  a  very  insolent  discourse 
to-day.  In  the  room  of  using  charity  and  moderation  in 
your  sermon,  you  had  the  audacity  to  reflect  upon  his 
Majesty's  way  of  life,  in  the  very  face  of  his  people.  You 
made  your  attack  on  him  only,  though  you  ought  to  have 
used  gentleness  towards  him,  and  have  excused  his  frail- 
ties to  his  subjects.  I  do  not  think  you  were  moved  by 
a  spirit  of  Christian  charity,  but  excited  by  a  lust  of  ambi- 
tion, and  a  fondness  for  grandeur;  these  were  the  mo- 
tives of  your  conduct.  Were  I  in  his  Majesty's  place,  you 
should  be  banished  to  some  obscure  village,  and  there 
taught  to  be  more  cautious,  and  not  to  endeavour  to  raise 
the  people  to  rebel  against  the  ruler  God  has  put  over 


136  Abbe  D^ Espagnac. 


them.  I  cannot  say  what  the  king  may  do,  but  you  have 
presumed  too  much  upon  his  goodness.  You  did  not  ex- 
pect from  me  a  lesson  for  your  conduct,  drawn  from  the 
Christian  doctrine  and  moraUty ;  but  I  would  advise  you, 
for  your  own  good,  to  pay  attention  to  it. — I  am,  &c. 
"  The  Countess  du  Barry." 

abb:^  d'espagnac. 

Notwithstanding  the  almost  universal  servility  of  the 
French  clergy  previous  to  the  French  Revolution,  there 
were  still  found  men,  even  among  the  highest  dignitaries 
of  the  Church,  who  thundered  from  the  pulpit  declama- 
tions which  shook  the  very  foundations  of  the  court. 

In  the  Gazette  de  France^  28th  March  1780,  we  are  told 
that  "  there  was  no  sermon  on  Holy  Thursday  before  the 
king,  for  the  Abbe  d'Espagnac,  who  was  to  have  preached 
that  day,  found  himself  suddenly  indisposed  at  the  mo- 
ment he  was  stepping  into  the  pulpit,  and  rendered  in- 
capable of  delivering  his  discourse."  Such  is  the  account 
given  of  the  failure  of  this  sermon ;  but  the  secret  fact  is, 
that  at  the  moment  the  abbe  was  going  to  ascend  the 
pulpit  an  officer  came  to  him,  and  informed  him  that,  as 
the  king  knew  that  he  was  not  well,  he  excused  him  from 
performing  his  duty.  The  eloquent  orator,  who  did  not 
at  first  understand  the  kind  anxiety  of  the  king,  assured 
the  messenger  that  he  was  very  sensible  of  his  Majesty's 
attention,  but  that  he  was  very  well.  The  officer  perceiv- 
ing the  honest  simplicity  of  our  abbe,  was  obliged  to  ex- 
plain himself  in  more  direct  terms ;  and  leading  him  to  a 
post-chaise,  made  him  return  to  Paris. 

The  abbe  was  a  young  man  of  considerable  talents, 
who  sought  celebrity  by  the  boldness  of  his  opinions. 


Mahoul,  the  Bishop  of  Aeth.  137 

Several  days  before  Lent,  the  king  had  said,  "  We  heard 
last  year  a  most  unchristian  sermon,  (the  Abbe  Rousseau's  ;) 
but  this  year  we  shall  not  certainly."  This  hint  was  gently 
given  to  the  abbd  by  the  courtiers ;  but  he  was  resolute, 
and  would  not  be  intimidated.  The  Archbishop  of  Paris, 
and  the  great  Almoner,  were  appointed  to  examine  his 
sermon  before  it  was  preached.  They  found  it  did  not  at 
all  touch  upon  the  mystery  of  that  day,  but  on  a  matter 
most  irrelevant,  on  a  parallel  between  royalty  and  despot- 
ism. Fearful  that  this  might  produce  a  disagreeable  sen- 
sation, they  informed  the  Count  de  Maurepas,  who,  to 
save  himself  a  direct  refusal  to  the  orator,  fell  upon  the 
expedient  above  related. 

MABOUL,  THE  BISHOP  OF  AETH, 

In  France,  was  an  eminent  preacher,  and  justly  celebrated 
for  the  excellence  of  his  funeral  orations.  They  are  dis- 
tinguished by  that  sweetness  of  style,  that  nobility  of  sen- 
timent, that  unction  and  touching  simplicity  which  are 
the  characteristics  of  piety  and  genius.  "  The  Bishop  of 
Aeth,"  says  a  French  critic,  "  did  not  possess  the  mascu- 
line vigour  of  Bossuet ;  but  he  is  more  correct,  and  more 
polished.  Less  profound,  and  more  brilliant  than  Flechier, 
he  is,  at  the  same  time,  more  impressive  and  more  affec- 
tionate. If  he  introduces  antitheses,  they  are  of  things, 
not  of  words.  More  equal  than  Mascaron,  he  has  the 
taste,  the  grace,  and  the  ease  of  Father  La  Rue. 


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CHAPTER  VI. 

ANECDOTES  AND  REMINISCENCES  OF  ENGLISH  AND  SCOTTISH 
PREACHERS,  SINCE  THE  REFORMATION  TO  THE  END  OF 
THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY. 


BISHOP  LATIMER 

AS  born  about  the  year  1480,  and  on  the  i6th  of 
October  1555,  was  burned  ahve  at  the  stake, 
by  the  decree  of  bloody  Mary,  uttering  those 
memorable  and  truly  prophetic  words  to  his 
companion  in  the  flames, — "  Be  of  good  comfort^  brother 
Ridley^  and  play  the  man ;  we  shall  this  day  light  such  a 
candle^  by  God's  grace,  ift  Efigla?id,  as.  I  trust,  never  shall 
be  put  out.''' 

He  was  a  homely  and  painful  preacher,  of  a  character 
singularly  fearless  and  intrepid.  On  one  occasion  he 
boldly  denounced  from  the  pulpit  the  appointment  of 
bishops  and  other  distinguished  ecclesiastics  to  lay  offices, 
and  more  especially  to  places  in  the  mint,  during  the 
reign  of  Edward  VI.  In  one  of  his  sermons  on  the 
number  of  unpreaching  prelates,  he  said  : — 

"  But  they  are  otherwise  occupied ;  some  in  king's 
matters;  some  are  ambassadors,  some  of  the  Privy 
Council,  some  to  furnish  the  court;  some  are  lords  of 
Parliament ;    some   are  presidents,    some   controllers   of 


140  Latimer  s  Poiver  of  Rebuke. 

mints.  Well,  well,  is  this  their  duty  %  Is  this  their  office  1 
Is  this  their  calling'?  Should  we  have  ministers  of  the 
Church  to  be  controllers  of  mints  %  Is  this  a  meet  office 
for  a  priest  that  hath  the  cure  of  souls  %  Is  this  his  charge  % 
I  would  here  ask  one  question :  I  would  fain  know  who 
controlleth  the  devil  at  home  at  his  parish,  while  he  con- 
trolleth  the  mint  %  If  the  apostles  might  not  leave  the 
office  of  preaching  to  the  deacons,  shall  one  leave  it  for 
minting  ?  I  cannot  tell  you.  But  the  saying  is,  that  since 
priests  have  been  minters,  money  hath  been  worse  than 
it  was  before  ! " 

In  another  part  of  his  discourse,  the  good  Bishop 
proceeds  to  ask  : — 

"  Is  there  never  a  nobleman  to  be  a  Lord  President 
but  he  must  be  a  prelate  1  Is  there  never  a  wise  man 
in  the  realm  to  be  a  controller  of  the  mint?  I  speak 
it  to  your  shame;  I  speak  it  to  your  shame.  If  there 
be  never  a  wise  man,  make  a  water-bearer,  a  tinker, 
a  cobbler,  a  slave,  a  page,  the  controller  of  the  mint. 
Make  a  mean  gentleman,  a  groom,  a  yeoman,  make  a 
a  poor  beggar.  Lord  President.  Thus  I  speak,  not  that  I 
would  have  it  so,  but  to  your  shame,  if  there  be  never  a 
gentleman  meet  nor  able  to  be  Lord  President.  For  why 
are  not  the  noblemen  and  young  gentlemen  of  England 
so  brought  up  in  knowledge  of  God  and  in  learning  that 
they  might  be  able  to  execute  offices  in  the  common- 
weaU  Yea,  and  there  be  already  noblemen  enough, 
though  not  so  many  as  I  could  wish,  to  be  Lord  Presi- 
sidents;  and  wise  men  enough  for  the  mint.  And  as 
unmeet  a  thing  it  is  for  bishops  to  be  Lord  Presidents,  or 
priests  to  be  minters,  as  it  was  for  the  Corinthians  to 
plead  matters  of  variance  before  heathen  judges. 


He  Asks  a  Straiige  Qiiesilon.  141 

"  It  is  also  a  slander  to  the  noblemen,  as  though  they 
lacked  wisdom  and  learning  to  be  able  for  such  offices,  or 
else  were  no  men  of  conscience,  or  else  were  not  meet  to 
be  trusted,  and  able  for  such  offices.  And  a  prelate  has 
a  charge  and  cure  otherwise ;  and  therefore  he  cannot 
discharge  his  duty  and  be  a  Lord  President  too.  For  a 
presidentship  requireth  a  whole  man  ;  and  a  bishop  cannot 
be  two  men.  A  bishop  has  his  office,  a  flock  to  teach, 
to  look  unto ;  and  therefore  he  cannot  meddle  with  an- 
other office,  which  alone  requires  a  whole  man ;  he  should 
therefore  give  it  over  to  whom  it  is  meet,  and  labour  in 
his  own  business ;  as  Paul  writes  to  the  Thessalonians, 
*■  Let  every  man  do  his  own  business,  and  follow  his  call- 
ing.' Let  the  priest  preach,  and  the  nobleman  handle  the 
temporal  matters.  Moses  was  a  marvellous  man,  a  good 
man  :  Moses  was  a  wonderful  man,  and  did  his  duty, 
being  a  married  man  :  we  lack  such  as  Moses  was.  Well, 
I  would  all  men  would  look  to  their  duty  as  God  hath 
called  them,  and  then  we  should  have  a  flourishing  Chris- 
tian commonweal. 

"  And  now  I  would  ask  a  strange  question :  Who  is  the 
most  diligent  bishop  and  prelate  in  all  England,  that  passes 
all  the  rest  in  doing  his  office  %  I  can  tell,  for  I  know  who 
it  is  ;  1  know  him  well.  But  now  I  think  I  see  you  listen- 
ing and  hearkening  that  I  should  name  him.  There  is  one 
that  passes  all  the  other,  and  is  the  most  diligent  prelate 
and  preacher  in  all  England.  And  will  ye  know  who  it 
is  %  I  will  tell  you — it  is  the  devil.  He  is  the  most  dili- 
gent preacher  of  all  others;  he  is  never  out  of  his  diocese; 
he  is  never  from  his  cure ;  you  shall  never  find  him  un- 
occupied ;  he  is  ever  in  his  parish ;  he  keeps  residence  at 
all  times ;  you  shall  never  find  him  out  of  the  way ;  call 


142  Latimer  s  Denunciation  of  Superstition, 

for  him  when  you  will  he  is  ever  at  home.  He  is  the  most 
diligent  preacher  in  all  the  realm;  he  is  ever  at  his  plough; 
no  lording  nor  loitering  can  hinder  him ;  he  is  ever  apply- 
ing his  business  ;  you  shall  never  find  him  idle  I  warrant 
you.  And  his  ofiice  is  to  hinder  religion,  to  maintain 
superstition,  to  set  up  idolatry,  to  teach  all  kinds  of 
Popery.  He  is  ready  as  can  be  wished  for  to  set  forth 
his-  plough  ;  to  devise  as  many  ways  as  can  be  to  deface 
and  obscure  God's  glory.  Where  the  devil  is  resident,  and 
has  his  plough.going,  there  away  with  books  and  up  with 
candles;  away  with  Bibles  and  up  with  beads;  away  with 
the  light  of  the  Gospel  and  up  with  the  light  of  candles, 
yea,  at  noonday.  Where  the  devil  is  resident,  that  he  may 
prevail,  up  with  all  superstition  and  idolatry, — censing, 
painting  of  images,  candles,  palms,  ashes,  holy  water,  and 
new  service  of  men's  inventing ;  as  though  man  could 
invent  a  better  way  to  honour  God  with  than  God  himself 
hath  appointed.  Down  with  Christ's  cross,  up  with  pur- 
gatory pickpurse — up  with  him,  the  Popish  purgatory  I 
mean.  Away  with  clothing  the  naked,  the  poor,  and  im- 
potent ;  up  with  decking  of  images,  and  gay  garnishing  of 
stocks  and  stones ;  up  with  man's  traditions  and  his  laws, 
down  with  God's  traditions  and  His  most  holy  Word. 
Down  with  the  old  honour  due  to  God,  and  up  with  the 
new  god's  honour.  Let  all  things  be  done  in  Latin  :  there 
must  be  nothing  but  Latin,  not  so  much  as  '  Remember, 
man,  that  thou  art  ashes,  and  into  ashes  shaltthou  return;' 
which  are  the  words  that  the  minister  speaketh  unto  the 
ignorant  people  when  he  gives  them  ashes  upon  Ash- 
Wednesday;  but  it  must  be  spoken  in  Latin.  God's 
Word  may  in  nowise  be  translated  into  English. 

"  Oh  that  our  prelates  would  be  as  diligent  to  sow  the 


His  Advice  to  the  Bishops.  143 

corn  of  good  doctrine  as  Satan  is  to  sow  cockle  and 
darnel !  And  this  is  the  devilish  ploughing  which  worketh 
to  have  things  in  Latin,  and  hinders  the  fruitful  edifica- 
tion. But  here  some  man  will  say  to  me,  What,  sir,  are 
you  so  privy  to  the  devil's  counsel  that  you  know  all 
this  to  be  true  %  True ;  I  know  him  too  well,  and  have 
obeyed  him  a  little  too  much  in  condescending  to  some 
follies ;  and  I  know  him  as  other  men  do ;  yea,  that  he  is 
ever  occupied,  and  ever  busy  in  following  his  plough.  I 
know  by  St  Peter,  who  saith  of  him,  '  He  goeth  about  like 
a  roaring  lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour.'  I  would 
have  this  text  well  viewed  and  examined,  every  word  of 
it :  '  He  goeth  about '  in  every  corner  of  his  diocese ;  he 
goeth  on  visitation  daily,  he  leaves  no  place  of  his  cure 
unvisited ;  he  walks  round  about  from  place  to  place,  and 
ceases  not.  '  As  a  lion,'  that  is,  strongly,  boldly,  and 
proudly;  stately  and  fiercely,  with  haughty  looks,  with 
his  proud  countenances,  with  his  stately  braggings. 
'  Roaring,'  for  he  lets  not  any  occasion  slip  to  speak  or 
to  roar  out  when  he  seeth  his  time.  '  He  goeth  about 
seeking,'  and  not  sleeping,  as  our  bishops  do;  but  he; 
seeketh  diligently,  he  searcheth  diligently  all  corners  wherq 
he  may  have  his  prey.  He  roveth  abroad  in  every  plac6 
of  his  diocese ;  he  standeth  not  still,  he  is  never  at  rest^ 
but  ever  in  hand  with  his  plough,  that  it  may  go  forward. 
But  there  was  never  such  a  preacher  in  England  as  he  is. 
Who  is  able  to  tell  his  diligent  preaching,  which  every 
day,  and  every  hour,  labours  to  sow  cockle  and  darnel, 
that  he  may  bring  out  of  form,  and  out  of  estimation  and 
renown,  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper  and  Christ's 
cross?  For  there  he  lost  his  right;  for  Christ  said,  '  Now 
is  the  judgment  of  this  world,  and  the  prince  of  this  world 


144  Latb7tcr''s  Rebuke  of  the  Me?t  of  Londoti. 

shall  be  cast  out.  And  as  Moses  did  lift  up  the  serpent 
in  the  wilderness  so  must  the  Son  of  man  be  lifted  up, 
(John  iii.)  And  when  I  shall  be  lift  up  from  the  earth,  I 
will  draw  all  things  unto  myself  For  the  devil  was  dis- 
appointed of  his  purpose ;  for  he  thought  all  to  be  his 
own ;  and  when  he  had  once  brought  Christ  to  the  cross, 
he  thought  all  was  sure." 

In  a  sermon  on  the  plough,  he  addresses  the  men  of 
London  in  these  homely  but  stirring  words  : — 

"  Now  what  shall  we  say  of  these  rich  citizens  of  Lon- 
don %  what  shall  I  say  of  them  %  Shall  I  call  them  proud 
men  of  London,  malicious  men  of  London,  merciless  men 
of  London  %  No,  no,  I  may  not  say  so  ;  they  will  be 
offended  with  me  then.  Yet  must  I  speak.  For  is  there 
not  reigning  in  London  as  much  pride,  as  much  covetous- 
ness,  as  much  cruelty,  as  much  oppression,  and  as  much 
superstition,  as  there  was  in  Nebo?  Yes,  I  think,  and 
much  more  too.  Therefore  I  say.  Repent,  O  London  ! 
repent,  repent !  Thou  hearest  thy  faults  told  thee ;  amend 
them,  amend  them.  I  think,  if  Nebo  had  had  the  preach- 
ing that  thou  hast,  they  would  have  converted.  And  you, 
rulers  and  officers,  be  wise  and  circumspect ;  look  to  your 
charge,  and  see  you  do  your  duties ;  and  rather  be  glad  to 
amend  your  ill  living  than  be  angry  when  you  are  warned 
or  told  of  your  fault.  What  ado  was  there  made  in  Lon- 
don at  a  certain  man,  because  he  said — and  indeed  at  that 
time  on  a  just  cause — '  Burgesses,'  quoth  he,  '■  nay,  butter- 
flies ! '  What  ado  there  was  for  that  word  !  and  yet  would 
that  they  were  no  worse  than  butterflies  !  Butterflies  do 
but  their  nature  ;  the  butterfly  is  not  covetous,  is  not 
greedy  of  other  men's  goods ;  is  not  full  of  envy  and 
hatred,  is  not  malicious,  is  not  cruel,  is  not  merciless. 


Latimer's  Rebuke  of  the  Men  of  London.  145 

The  butterfly  glories  not  in  her  own  deeds,  nor  prefers 
the  traditions  of  men  before  God's  Word  ;  it  commits  not 
idolatry,  nor  worships  false  gods.  But  London  cannot 
abide  to  be  rebuked  ;  such  is  the  nature  of  men.  If  they 
are  pricked,  they  will  kick  ;  if  they  are  galled,  they  will 
wince  ;  but  yet  they  will  not  amend  their  faults,  they  will 
not  be  ill  spoken  of.  But  how  shall  I  speak  well  of  them  % 
If  you  would  be  content  to  receive  and  follow  the  Word  of 
God,  and  favour  good  preachers  ;  if  you  could  bear  to  be 
told  of  your  faults  ;  if  you  could  amend  when  you  hear  of 
them  ;  if  you  could  be  glad  to  reform  that  which  is  amiss ; 
if  I  might  see  any  such  inchnation  in  you,  that  you  would 
leave  off  being  merciless,  and  begin  to  be  charitable,  I 
would  then  hope  well  of  you — I  would  then  speak  well  of 
you.  But  London  was  never  so  ill  as  it  is  now.  In  times 
past  men  were  full  of  pity  and  compassion,  but  now  there 
is  no  pity ;  for  in  London  their  brother  shall  die  in  the 
streets  for  cold — he  shall  lie  sick  at  the  door,  and  perish 
there  for  hunger.  Was  there  ever  more  unmercifulness  in 
Nebo  %  I  think  not.  In  times  past,  when  any  rich  man 
died  in  London,  they  were  wont  to  help  the  poor  scholars 
of  the  universities  with  exhibitions.  When  any  man  died, 
they  would  bequeath  great  sums  of  money  toward  the 
relief  of  the  poor.  When  I  was  a  scholar  in  Cambridge 
myself,  I  heard  very  good  report  of  London,  and  knew 
many  that  had  rehef  from  the  rich  men  of  London  ;  but 
now  I  hear  no  such  good  report,  and  yet  I  inquire  of  it, 
and  hearken  for  it  j  but  now  charity  is  waxen  cold — none 
helps  the  scholar  nor  yet  the  poor.  And  in  those  days 
what  did  they  when  they  helped  the  scholars  ?  They 
maintained  and  gave  them  livings  who  were  very  Papists 
and   professed  the  Pope's  doctrine  ;  and  now  that  the 

K 


146  Holy  Maid  of  Kenzs  Conspiracy, 

knowledge  of  God's  Word  is  brought  to  light,  and  many 
earnestly  study  and  labour  to  set  it  forth,  now  hardly  any 
man  helps  to  maintain  them. 

"  O  London,  London  !  repent,  repent ;  for  I  think  God 
is  more  displeased  with  London  than  ever  he  was  with 
the  city  of  Nebo.  Repent,  therefore  ;  repent,  London, 
and  remember  that  the  same  God  liveth  now  that  punished 
Nebo — even  the  same  God,  and  none  other ;  and  He  will 
punish  sin  as  well  now  as  He  did  then  :  and  He  will 
punish  the  iniquity  of  London  as  well  as  He  did  them  of 
.Nebo.     Amend,  therefore." 

Holy  Maid  of  Ken  fs  Conspiracy, 
At  the  time  of  the  noted  imposture  of  the  "  Holy  Maid 
of  Kent,"  who  pretended  that  God  had  revealed  to  her, 
that  in  case  Henry  VIII.  should  divorce  Queen  Katherine 
of  Arragon,  and  take  another  wife  during  her  life,  his 
royalty  would  not  be  of  a  month's  duration,  but  he  should 
die  the  death  of  a  villain ;  one  Peto,  who  appears  to  have 
been  an  accomphce  in  the  imposture,  was  preaching  be- 
fore Henry  at  Greenwich,  and,  in  the  same  strain  with  the 
nun,  did  not  scruple  to  tell  his  Majesty  to  his  face  that 
he  had  been  deceived  by  m.any  lying  prophets,  while  him- 
self, as  a  true  Micaiah,  warned  him  that  the  dogs  should 
lick  his  blood,  as  they  had  Hckc-d  the  blood  of  Ahab. 
Henry  bore  this  outrageous  insult  with  a  moderation  not 
very  usual  with  him;  but  to  undeceive  the  people,  he 
appointed  Dr  Curwin  to  preach  before  him  on  the  Sun- 
day following ;  who  justified  the  king's  proceedings,  and 
branded  Peto  with  the  epithets  of  "  rebel,  slanderer,  dog, 
and  traitor."  Curwin,  however,  was  interrupted  by  a  friar, 
who  called  him  a  lying  prophet,  who  sought  to  "alter  the 


John  Knox — Tavernier.       .  147 

succession  to  the  crown ;"  and  proceeded  so  virulently  to 
abuse  him,  that  the  king  was  obliged  to  interpose,  and 
command  him  to  be  silent.  Peto  and  the  friar  were  after- 
wards summoned  before  the  king  and  council,  but  were 
only  reprimanded  for  their  insolence. 

JOHN  KNOX. 

On  one  occasion  when  that  intrepid  reformer,  John 
Knox,  took  the  liberty  of  lecturing  Queen  Mary  from  the 
pulpit,  her  Majesty  indignantly  exclaimed,  "  What  have 
ye  to  do  with  my  marriage  %  or  what  are  you  in  this  com- 
monwealth ?"  "A  subject  born  within  the  same,  madam,^' 
replied  the  reformer,  piqued  by  the  last  question,  and  the 
contemptuous  tone  in  which  it  was  proposed.  ''And 
albeit  I  be  neither  earl,  lord,  nor  baron  in  it,  yet  has  God 
made  me  (how  abject  that  ever  I  be  in  your  eyes)  a  profit- 
able member  within  the  same.  Yea,  madam,  to  me  it 
appertains  no  less  to  forewarn  of  such  things  as  may  hurt 
it,  if  I  foresee  them,  than  it  doth  to  any  of  the  nobility; 
for  both  my  vocation  and  conscience  require  plainness  of 
me.  And  therefore,  madam,  to  yourself  I  say  that  which 
I  speak  in  public  place :  whensoever  the  nobility  of  this 
realm  shall  consent,  that  ye  be  subject  to  an  unfaithful 
husband,  they  do  as  much  as  in  them  lieth  to  renounce 
Christ,  to  banish  His  truth  from  them,  to  betray  the  free- 
dom of  this  realm,  and  perchance  it  shall  in  the  end  do 
small  comfort  to  yourself." 

Lay  F?'eacher. 
In  the  year  1555,  a  Mr  Tavernier,  of  Bresley,  in  Nor- 
folk, had  a  special  licence,  signed  by  King  Edward  VI., 
authorising  him  to  preach  in  any  place  of  his  Majesty's 


14^  Queen  Elizabeth. 


dominions,  though  he  was  a  layman  \  and  he  is  said 
to  have  preached  before  the  King  at  Court,  wearing  a 
velvet  bonnet  or  round  cap,  a  damask  gown,  and  a  gold 
chain  about  his  neck.  In  the  reign  of  Mary  he  appeared 
in  the  pulpit  of  St  Mary's,  Oxford,  with  a  sword  by  his 
side,  and  a  gold  chain  about  his  neck,  and  preached  to 
the  scholars,  beginning  his  sermon  in  these  words : — 
"  Arriving  at  the  Mount  of  St  Mary's,  in  the  Stony  Stage 
v/here  I  now  stand,  I  have  brought  you  some  fine  biscuits 
baked  in  the  oven  of  charity,  carefully  conserved  for  the 
chickens  of  the  Church."  This  sort  of  style — especially 
the  alliterative  part  of  it — was  much  admired  in  those 
days,  even  by  the  most  accomplished  of  scholars,  and  was 
long  after  in  great  favour  both  with  speakers  and  hearers. 
At  the  time  that  Mr  Tavernier  first  received  commis- 
sion as  a  preacher,  good  preaching  was  so  very  rare,  that 
not  only  the  king's  chaplains  were  obliged  to  make  cir- 
cuits round  the  country  to  instruct  the  people,  and  to 
fortify  them  against  Popery,  but  even  laymen,  who  were 
scholars,  were  employed  for  that  purpose. 

QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

With  all  the  strength  of  mind  which  Queen  Elizabeth 
possessed,  she  had  the  weakness  of  her  sex  as  far  as 
related  to  her  age  and  her  personal  attractions.  "  The 
majesty  and  gravity  of  a  sceptre,"  says  a  contemporary  of 
this  great  princess,  "could  not  alter  that  nature  of  a 
woman  in  her.  When  Bishop  Rudd  was  appointed  to 
preach  before  her,  he  wishing,  in  a  godly  zeal,  as  well  be- 
came him,  that  she  should  think  sometime  of  immortality, 
being  then  sixty-three  years  of  age,  took  his  text  for  that 
purpose  out  of  the  Psalms  (xc.  12),  '  Oh  teach  us  to  num- 


Archbishop  Usher.  149 

ber  our  days,  that  we  may  incline  our  hearts  unto  wisdom!' 
which  text  he  handled  very  learnedly ;  but  when  he  spoke 
of  some  sacred  and  mystical  numbers,  as  three  for  the 
Trinity,  three  times  three  for  the  heavenly  hierarchy, 
seven  for  the  Sabbath,  and  seven  times  seven  for  a 
jubilee  ;  and,  lastly,  nine  times  seven  for  the  grand 
cUmacterical  year,  (her  age,)  she,  perceiving  whereto  it 
tended,  began  to  be  troubled  with  it.  The  bishop,  dis- 
covering all  was  not  well — for  the  pulpit  stood  opposite 
to  her  Majesty — fell  to  treat  of  some  more  plausible 
numbers,  as  of  the  number  666,  making  Latinus,  with 
which,  he  said,  he  could  prove  Pope  to  be  Antichrist,  &c. 
He  still,  however,  interlarded  his  sermon  with  Scripture 
passages,  touching  the  infirmities  of  age,  as  that  in  Eccle- 
siastes,  '  When  the  grinders  shall  be  few  in  number,  and 
they  wax  dark  that  look  out  of  the  windows,  &c.,  and  the 
daughters  of  singing  shall  be  abased,'  and  more  to  that 
purpose.  The  Queen,  as  her  manner  was,  opened  the 
window,  but  she  was  so  far  from  giving  him  thanks  or 
good  countenance,  that  she  said  plainly,  '  He  might  have 
kept  his  arithmetic  to  himself;  but  I  see  the  greatest 
clerks  are  not  the  wisest  men ;'  and  so  she  went  away 
discontented." 

ARCHBISHOP    USHER. 

This  eminent  divine,  afterwards  Archbishop  of  Armagh, 
preached,  when  young,  before  the  State  at  Christ  Church 
Cathedral,  Dublin.  He  selected  for  his  text  Ezekiel, 
chapter  iv.,  verse  6  :  "  And  thou  shalt  bear  the  iniquity  of 
Judah  forty  days.  I  have  appointed  thee  each  day  for  a 
year."  He  then  made  this  conjecture  in  reference  to 
Ireland — "  Count  from  this  year  and  then  those  whom  you 


150  Presbyterian  Eloquence  Displayed. 

now  embrace  shall  be  your  ruin,  and  you  shall  bear  their 
iniquity."  This  remark,  uttered  by  him  in  his  sermon, 
seemed  only  to  be  the  rhapsody  of  a  young  man,  who  was 
no  friend  to  Popery  ;  but  afterwards,  when  it  came  to  pass 
at  the  expiration  of  forty  years,  that  is,  from  1601  to  1641, 
when  the  Irish  rebellion  broke  out,  and  after  the  papists 
had  murdered  and  slain  so  many  thousands  of  Protestants, 
and  harassed  the  whole  nation  by  a  sanguinary  war,  then 
those  who  lived  to  see  that  day  began  to  think  that  Usher 
was  a  prophet. 

Presbyterian  Eloquence  Displayed^ 
An  old  book,  thus  describes  the  method  of  preaching, 
popular  among  the   Presbyterians    of   the    seventeenth 
century : — 

"  One  John  Simple,  a  very  zealous  preacher  among  them, 
used  to  personate  and  act  sermons  in  the  old  monkish 
style.  At  a  certain  time  he  preached  upon  that  de- 
bate, Whether  a  man  be  justified  by  faith  or  by  works, 
and  acted  it  after  this  manner  :  '  Sirs,  this  is  a  very 
great  debate;  but  who  is  that  looking  in  at  the  door 
with  his  red  cap  %  It  is  very  ill  manners  to  be  looking 
in  :  but  what 's  your  name  %  Robert  Bellarmine.  Bellar- 
mine,  saith  he,  whether  is  a  man  justified  by  faith  or  by 
works?  He  is  justified  by  works.  Stand  thou  there, 
man.  But  what  is  he,  that  honest-Hke  man  standing  in 
the  floor  with  a  long  beard  and  Geneva  cowl?  Avery 
honest-like  man  !  draw  near  ;  what 's  your  name,  sir  %  My 
name  is  John  Calvin.  Calvin,  honest  Calvin,  whether  is  a 
man  justified  by  faith  or  by  works  ?  He  is  justified  by 
faith.  Very  well,  John,  thy  leg  to  my  leg,  and  we  shall 
hough  \trip'\  down  Bellarmine  even  now.' 


Thomas  Playfcf-e.  151 


"  Another  time,  preaching  on  the  day  of  judgment,  he 
toid  them,  '  Sirs,  this  will  be  a  terrible  day ;  we  '11  all  be 
there,  and,  in  the  throng,  I,  John  Simple,  will  be,  and  all  of 
you  will  stand  at  my  back.  Christ  will  look  to  me,  and 
he  will  say,  Who  is  that  standing  there  %  I  '11  say  again, 
Yea,  even  as  ye  ken'd  not,  Lord.  He  '11  say,  I  know  thou 's 
honest  John  Simple  ;  draw  near,  John.  Now  John,  what 
good  service  have  you  done  to  me  on  earth  %  I  have 
brought  hither  a  company  of  blue  bonnets  for  you,  Lord. 
Blue  bonnets,  John  !  What  is  become  of  the  brave  hats, 
the  silks,  and  the  satins,  John  %  I  '11  tell,  I  know  not, 
Lord  ;  they  went  a  gait  of  their  own.  Well,  honest  John, 
thou  and  thy  blue  bonnets  are  welcome  to  me  :  come  to 
my  right  hand,  and  let  the  devil  take  the  hats,  the  silks, 
and  the  satins.'" 

THOMAS    PLAYFERE, 

Once  Professor  of  Divinity  in  the  University  of  Cambridge, 
is  now  forgotten.  This  worthy  had  all  the  faults  of  his 
time  yet  there  was  in  him  an  affluence  01  imagery  which 
rendered  his  discourses  wonderfully  effective.  Take  the 
following  : — 

Thai  the  Preacher  must  say  well  and  doe  well.  . 
"  Both  pastor  an  people  must  doe  that  themselves 
v/hich  they  teach  others  to  doe.  That  must  be.  First  for 
the  pastor  he  hath  two  kind  01  garments,— a  breastplate, 
and  an  Ephod  :  the  breastplate  shows  that  he  must  have 
science  to  teach ;  the  Ephod  shows  txiat  he  must  have 
conscience  to  doe  that  which  he  teacheth.  And  in  the 
very  breastplate  itself  is  written,  not  onely  Urim,  but  also 
Thummim.     Urim   signifies   light.      Thummim   signifies 


152  John  St  ought  on. 


perfection.  To  proove  that  the  pastor  must  not  onely  be 
the  light  of  the  world,  but  also  the  salt  of  the  earth :  not 
only  a  light  of  direction  in  his  teaching,  but  also  a  patterne 
of  perfection  in  his  doing.  For  even  as  the  snuffers  of  the 
tabernacle  were  made  of  pure  golde,  so  preachers,  which 
should  purge  and  dresse,  and  cleare  others  that  they  may 
burne-out  brightly,  must  be  made  of  pure  gold."     *     *     * 

JOHN  STOUGHTON 

Was  another  quaint  and  vigorous  Puritan.  He  was  one  of 
the  chaplains  to  King  James  I.,  and  occasionally  preached 
at  St  Paul's  Cross.  He  wrote  a  book  called  "  Baruch's 
Sore  gently  opened,"  which  to  a  modern  reader  sounds 
very  queer.  To  the  pious  minds  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury such  talk  was  abundantly  edifying.  So  do  times  and 
fashions  pass  away.  The  following  passages  ought  not  to 
be  buried  for  ever  beneath  the  dust  of  old  libraries  : — 

Peace  with  Conscience. 

"The  Bride  that  hath  good  cheere  within,  and  good 
musicke,  and  a  good  Bridegroome  with  her,  may  be 
merrie,  though  the  hail  chance  to  rattle  upon  the  tiles 
without  upon  her  wedding  day :  though  the  world  should 
rattle  about  his  eares,  a  man  may  sit  merrie  that  sits  at 
the  feast  of  a  good  conscience  :  nay,  the  child  of  God,  by 
vertue  of  this,  in  the  midst  of  the  waves  of  affliction,  is  as 
secure  as  that  child,  which  in  a  shipwracke  was  upon  a 
planke  with  his  mother,  till  shee  awaked  him  securely 
sleeping,  and  then  with  his  prettie  countenance  sweetly 
smiling,  and  by-and-by  sportingly  asking  a  stroake  to  beat 
the  naughtie  waves,  and  at  last  when  they  continued 
boisterous  for  all  that,  sharply  chiding  them,  as  though 


John  Flavel.  153 


they  had  been  but  his  playfellowes.  O  the  innocencie  ! 
O  the  comfort  of  peace  !  O  the  tranquillitie  of  a  spotless 
mind!     There  is  no   heaven  so  cleere  as  a  good  con- 


JOHN  FLAVEL. 

About  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  vener- 
able John  Flavel,  whose  practical  writings  are  well  known, 
was  settled  at  Dartmouth. 

Mr  Flavel's  manner  was  remarkably  affectionate  and 
serious,  often  exciting  powerful  emotions  in  his  hearers. 
On  one  occasion  he  preached  from  these  words,  "  If  any 
man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  anathema, 
maranatha."  The  discourse  was  unusually  solemn,  parti- 
cularly the  explanation  of  the  words  a?iathana  maranatha: 
"  Cursed  with  a  curse,  cursed  of  God  with  a  bitter  and 
grievous  curse."  At  the  conclusion  of  the  service,  when 
Mr  Flavel  arose  to  pronounce  the  blessing,  he  paused  and 
said,  "  How  shall  I  bless  this  whole  assembly,  when  every 
person  in  it  who  loveth  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  ana- 
thema maranatha  ? "  This  address  deeply  affected  the 
audience,  and  one  gentleman,  a  person  of  rank,  was  so 
overcome  by  his  feelings,  that  he  fell  senseless  to  the  floor. 

In  the  congregation  was  a  lad  named  Luke  Short,  then 
about  fifteen  years  old,  and  a  native  of  Dartmouth. 
Shortly  after  the  event  just  narrated  he  sailed  to  America, 
where  he  passed  the  rest  of  his  life.  Mr  Short's  days 
were  lengthened  much  beyond  the  usual  term.  When  a 
a  hundred  years  old,  he  had  sufficient  strength  to  work  on 
his  farm,  and  his  mental  faculties  were  very  little  impaired. 
Hitherto  he  had  lived  in  carelessness ;  he  was  now  "  a 
sinner  a  hundred  years  old,"  and  apparently  ready  to  "  die 


54  Robert  WilJziiison. 


accursed/'  But  one  day,  as  he  sat  in  in  his  fields,  he 
busied  himself  in  reflecting  on  his  past  lite.  Recurring  to 
the  events  of  his  youth,  his  memory  fixed  upon  Mr  Flavel's 
discourse  above  alluded  to,  a  considerable  part  of  which 
he  was  able  to  recollect.  The  earnestness  of  the  preacher's 
manner,  the  truths  which  he  delivered,  and  the  effects  pro- 
duced on  the  congregation,  were  brought  fresh  to  his  mind. 
The  blessing  of  God  accompanied  his  meditations  j  he  felt 
that  he  had  not  "loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;"  he  feared 
the  dreadful  "anathema;"  conviction  was  followed  by  re- 
pentance. To  the  day  of  his  death,  which  took  place 
in  his  1 1 6th  year,  he  gave  pleasing  evidence  of  piety. 

ROBERT  WILKINSON, 

Of  Cambridge,  preached  a  sermon  entitled.  The  Royal 
Merchant,  preached  at  Whitehall,  before  the  King's  Ma- 
jesty^ at  the  Nuptials  of  an  Honourable  Lord  and  his  Lady, 
The  argument  is  one  long  laudation  of  the  bride,  and  the 
text  is,  "  She  is  like  a  7nerehant  ship,  she  bringeth  her  goods 
Jroni  afar.''  Mark  his  description  of  a  wise  and  prudent 
wife  : — 

"  But  what  saith  the  Scriptures  ?  '  The  King's  daughter 
is  all  glorious  within^  Ps.  xlv.,  and  as  ships  which  are  the 
fairest  in  show,  yet  are  not  always  the  fittest  for  use  ;  so 
neither  are  women  the  more  to  be  esteemed,  but  the  more 
to  be  suspected  for  their  fair  trappings  ;  yet  we  condemn 
not  in  greater  personages  the  use  of  ornaments ;  yea,  we 
teach  that  silver,  silks,  and  gold  were  created,  not  only  for 
the  necessity,  but  also  for  ornament  of  the  saints.  In  the 
practice  whereof,  Rebeccah,  a  holy  woman,  is  noted  to 
have  received  from  Isaac,  a  holy  man,  even  ear-rings,  habi- 
liments, and  bracelets  of  gold,  (Gen.  xxiv.,)  therefore  this 


His  Sermon  on  a  MatTiage.  155 

is  it  we  teach  for  rules  of  Christian  sobriety,  that  if  a  woman 
exceed  neither  decency  in  fashion,  nor  the  Hmits  of  her 
state  and  degree,  and  that  she  be  proud  of  nothing,  we 
see  no  reason  but  she  may  wear  anything. 

"  It  followeth  she  is  hke  a  ship,  but  what  a  ship  %  A  ship 
of  merchants — no  doubt  a  great  commendation  ;  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  Hke  a  merchant,  (Matt,  xiii.,)  and 
merchants  have  been  princes,  (Isa.  xxiii.,)  and  princes  are 
gods,  (Ps.  Ixxxii.)  The  merchant  is  of  all  men  most  la- 
borious for  his  life,  the  most  adventurous  in  his  labour, 
the  most  peaceable  upon  the  sea,  the  most  profitable  to 
the  land  ;  yea,  the  merchant  is  the  combination  and  union 
of  lands  and  countries.  She  is  like  a  ship  of  merchants, 
therefore  first  to  be  reckoned,  as  ye  see,  among  the  laity  ; 
not  like  a  fisherman's  boat,  not  like  St  Peter's  ship ;  for 
Christ  did  call  no  she  apostles.  Indeed  it  is  commend- 
able in  a  woman,  when  she  is  able  by  her  wisdom  to  in- 
struct her  children,  and  to  give  at  opportunities  good 
counsel  to  her  husband ;  but  when  women  shall  take  upon 
them,  as  many  have  done,  to  build  churches,  and  to  chalk 
out  disciphne  for  the  church ;  this  is  neither  commend- 
able, nor  tolerable  ;  for  '  her  hands,'  saith  Solomon,  '  imisf 
handle  the  spindle^  (ver.  1 9,)  the  spindle  or  the  cradle,  but 
neither  the  altar  nor  the  temple ;  for  St  John  commendeth 
even  to  the  elect  lady,  not  so  much  her  talking,  as  her 
walking  in  the  commandments,  (2  John  v.  6  ;)  therefore 
to  such  preaching  women,  it  may  be  answered,  as  St  Ber- 
nard sometimes  answered  the  image  of  the  blessed  Virgin 
at  the  great  church  at  Spire,  in  Germany.  Bernard  was  no 
sooner  come  into  the  church,  but  the  image  straight  saluted 
him,  and  bade  him.  Good  morrozv,  Bernard^  whereat  Ber- 
nard, well  knowing  the  juggling  of  the  friars,  made  ans'A'ei 


156  Richard  Bernard. 


again,  out  of  St  Paul.  Oh,  saith  he,  your  ladyship  hath 
forgot  yourself^  it  is  not  lawful  for  women  to  speak  iji  the 
chu?rh" 

RICHARD  BERNARD 

Was  not  less  whimsical,  e.g. : — "  Sin  is  the  Thief  and  Rob- 
ber ;  he  stealeth  our  graces,  spoileth  us  of  every  blessing, 
utterly  undoeth  us,  and  maketh  miserable  both  body  and 
soul.  He  is  a  murderer  :  spares  no  person,  sex,  or  age  ; 
a  strong  thief:  no  human  power  can  bind  him;  a 
subtle  thief:  he  beguiled  Adam,  David,  yea,  even  Paul. 
The  only  watchman  to  spy  him  out  is  Godly-Jealousy. 
His  resort  is  in  Soul's  Town,  lodging  in  the  heart.  Sin 
is  to  be  sought  in  the  by-lanes,  and  in  Sense,  Thought, 
Word,  and  Deed  Streets.  The  hue  and  cry  is  after 
fellows  called  Outside,  who  nod  or  sleep  at  Church,  and, 
if  awake,  have  their  mind  wandering  :  Sir  Wordly  Wise,  a 
self-conceited  earthworm  :  Sir  Lukewarm,  a  Jack-on-both 
sides  j  Sir  Plausible  Civil ;  Master  Machiavel ;  a  licentious 
fellow  named  Libertine  j  a  snappish  fellow,  one  Scrupulo- 
sity; and  one  babbling  Babylonian;  these  conceal  the 
villain  sin.  To  escape,  he  pretends  to  be  an  honest  man  ; 
calls  vices  by  virtuous  names;  his  relations,  Ignorance, 
Error,  Opinion,  Idolatry,  Subtility,  Custom,  Forefathers, 
Sir  Power,  Sir  Sampler,  Sir  Must-do,  Sir  Silly,  Vain-Hope, 
Presumption,  Wilful,  and  Saint-like,  all  shelter  and  hide 
him.  The  Justice,  Lord  Jesus,  issues  His  warrant — God's 
Word — to  the  Constable,  Mr  Illuminated  Understanding, 
dwelling  in  Regeneration,  aided  by  his  wife,  Grace  ;  his 
sons,  Will  and  Obedience,  and  his  daughters,  Faith,  Hope, 
and  Charity ;  with  his  men.  Humility  and  Self-denial,  and 
his  maids,  Temperance  and    Patience.     Having   got  his 


His  Quaint  Method.  157 

warrant,  he  calls  to  aid  his  next  neighbour,  Godly  Sorrow, 
with  his  seven  sons,  Care,  Clearing,  Indignation,  Fear, 
Vehement  Desire,  Zeal,  and  Revenge  :  these  are  capable 
of  apprehending  the  sturdiest  thief.  He  goes  to  the  com- 
mon inn,  an  harlot's  house  called  Mistress  Heart,  a  recept- 
acle for  all  villains  and  thieves,  no  dishonest  person  being 
denied  house-room.  Mistress  Heart  married  her  own 
father,  an  Old-man,  keeping  rest  night  and  day,  to  pre- 
vent any  godly  motion  from  lodging  there.  The  house 
has  five  doors,  Hearing,  Seeing,  Tasting,  Smelling,  and 
Feeling.  Eleven  maids,  impudent  harlots,  wait  upon  the 
guests,  Love,  Hatred,  Desire,  Detestation,  Vain-hope, 
Despair,  Fear,  Audacity,  Joy,  Sorrow,  and  Anger,  and  a 
man-servant  Will.  The  Dishes  are  the  lusts  of  the  flesh, 
served  in  the  platter  of  pleasure ;  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  in 
the  plate  of  profit ;  and  the  pride  of  life.  The  drink  is  the 
pleasures  of  sin  :  their  bedroom  is  natural  corruption.  '  In 
this  room  lieth  Mistress  Heart,  all  her  maids,  her  man, 
and  all  her  guests  together,  like  wild  Irish.'  The  bed  is 
impenitency,  and  the  coverings,  Carnal  Security;  when 
the  Constable  enters,  he  attacks  them  all  with  '  apprehen- 
sions of  God's  wrath,'  and  carries  them  before  the  Judge, 
who  examines  the  prisoners,  and  imprisons  them  until  the 
assizes,  in  the  custody  of  the  jailer.  New  Man.  '  If  any 
prisoner  breaks  out,  the  sheriff — Religion — must  bear  the 
blame  ;  saying.  This  is  your  religion  is  it ?'  The  keepers 
and  fetters,  as  vows,  fasting,  prayer,  &c.,  are  described 
with  the  prison.'  " 

"  The  commission  is  Conscience ;  the  circuit  the  Soul ; 
the  council  for  the  king  are  Divine  Reason  and  Quick-sight- 
edness;  the  clerk,  Memory;  the  witness.  Godly  Sorrow;  the 
grand  jury,  Holy  Men,  the  inspired  authors ;  the  traverse 


158  Dr  John  Evei-ard. 


jury,  Faith,  Love  of  God,  Fear  of  God,  Charity,  Sincerity, 
Unity,  Patience,  Innocency,  Chastity,  Equity,  Verity,  and 
Contentation ;  all  these  are  challenges  by  the  prisoners 
who  would  be  tried  by  Nature,  Doubting,  Careless,  &c.,  all 
freeholders  of  great  means.  This  the  Judge  overrules ; 
Old-man  is  put  on  his  trial  first,  and  David,  Job,  Isaiah, 
and  Paul  are  witnesses  against  him.  He  pleads,  *  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  original  corruption.  Pelagius,  a  learned 
man,  and  all  those  now  that  are  called  Anabaptists,  have 
hitherto,  and  yet  do  maintain  that  sin  cometh  by  imitation, 
and  not  by  inbred  pravity.  Good  my  lord,  cast  not  away 
so  old  a  man,  for  I  am  at  this  day  5569  years  old.'  He 
is  found  guilty,  and  his  sentence  is  :  '  Thou  shalt  be  car- 
ried back  to  the  place  of  execution,  and  there  be  cast  off, 
with  all  thy  deeds,  and  all  thy  members  daily  mortified 
and  crucified,  with  all  thy  lusts,  of  every  one  that  hath 
truly  put  on  Christ.'  Mistress  Heart  is  then  tried,  Moses 
(Gen.  viii.  21),  Jeremiah  (xvii.  9),  Ezekiel  (xi.  19),  Mat- 
thew (xii.  34),  and  others  give  evidence,  and  she  is  con- 
victed, and  sentenced  to  perpetual  imprisonment  under 
the  jailer,  New  Man.  All  the  rest  of  the  prisoners  are 
tried. 

DR  JOHN  EVERARD, 

Of  Kensington,  wrote  a  volume,  entitled,  "  Some  Gospel 
Treasuries  Opened,  or  the  HoHest  of  all  Unveiled,"  &c. 
1653.  Observe  his  singular  method  of  illustrating  and 
expounding  Joshua  xv.  15-17  : 

The  smiting  of  Kiriath-sepher. 
''  But  to  all  this  I  reduce  only  this  part  of  this  chapter 
now  read,  to  unfold  and  interpret  all  this  :    And  for  the 
present  I  have  made  choice  of  these  two  verses,  to  give  light 


His  S'ui'iular  Method. 


159 


to  that  whole  chapter;  and  that  chapter  is  the  exposition 
of  this,  as  I  before  said  :  Oh,  how  hke  is  my  text,  and  every 
part  thereof,  to  those  new  washed  sheep  !  Cant.  iv.  2, 
'  Every  word  beareth  tiuins^  and  there  is  none  barreji  amo7ig 
them: 

"  Of  which  two  verses,  I  shall  say,  as  Abigail  said  of 
Nabal,  when  David  came  to  destroy  him, 

"  '  Regard  not  this  son  of  Belial^  and  let  not  my  Lord  be 
angry ^  Nabal  is  his  name.,  and  so  is  he:  So  I  may  say  of 
this  text,  as  their  names  are,  so  a7'e  they. 

"  Here  is  Kiriath-sepher,  and  Caleb,  and  Othniel,  and 
Achsah.  We  will  see  what  secrets  and  mysteries  the  Holy 
Spirit  hath  couched  under  these  vails  :  for,  as  they  are  in 
Hebrew,  they  express  nothing  to  us ;  but  read  them  in 
English,  and  take  off  their  vail,  and  you  may  see  what 
honey  will  co7ne  out  of  the  month  of  the  eater,  and  out  of  the 
strong  sweetness. 

"  What,  then,  is  Kiriath-sepher !  In  Hebrew  it  signifies 
the  City  of  the  Booh,  or  the  City  of  the  Letter. 

"  We  will  first  interpret  them  to  you  into  English,  and 
then  we  shall  come  to  show  you  what  they  are  to  every 
one  of  us  ;  for  it  is  the  office  of  the  ministers  of  the  New 
Testament,  to  strive  to  take  off  the  vail,  that  every  one  may 
see  his  own  face  in  the  Scriptures. 

"  In  the  next  place,  what  is  Achsah  %  In  Hebrew,  it 
signifies  the  rendijig  of  the  vail, 

"  And  then  what  signifies  Caleb  %  In  the  Hebrew  it  is 
as  much  as  to  say,  My  heart,  or  a  perfect  heart,  or  a  good 
heart. 

"  And  what,  then,  is  Othniel  %  In  the  Hebrew  it  is, 
Gods  good  tifne,  or  the  Lord's  ft  opportunity. 

"  I  have,  beloved,  as  yet  read  it  to  you  but  in  Hebrew : 


i6o  Thomas  Adams. 


and  then  it  runs  as  it  is  written,  and  Caleb  said,  '  Who- 
soever smiteth  the  city  Kiriath-sepher  and  taketh  it,  to  him 
will  I  give  Achsah  my  daughter  to  wife;  and  Othniel,  the 
son  of  Kenaz,  the  brother  of  Caleb,  took  it,  a?id  he  gave  unto 
him  Achsah  his  daughter  to  wife,'  and  so  on.  But  in  Eng- 
lish it  is  to  be  read  thus  :  And  my  heart  said,  or  a  good 
heart  said,  that  whosoever  smiteth  and  taketh  the  City  of 
the  Letter,  to  him  will  I  give  the  tearing  or  rending  of  the 
vail ;  and  Othniel  took  it,  as  being  God's  fit  time  or  oppor- 
tunity, and  he  married  Achsah ;  that  is,  enjoyed  the  rend- 
ing of  the  vail,  and  thereby  had  the  blessing  possessed  by 
Achsah,  by  the  vail  being  rent,  both  the  upper  springs,  and 
the  nether  springs.  To  him  that  obtains  this  rendi?tg  of 
the  vail,  to  him  shall  be  given  the  mysteries  of  the  king- 
dom of  God  ;  he  possesses/////  content,  heaven  and  all  hap- 
piness, and  whatever  his  heart  can  wish  for,  as  we  shall 
show  hereafter,  if  God  permit. 


THOMAS  ADAMS 

Is  a  foremost  name  among  the  Puritan  orators  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  His  collected  works  were  pubHshed 
in  1629.  He  is  known  to  have  been  alive  in  the  year 
1658.  But  the  place  of  his  death  and  burial  knoweth  no 
man.  Probably  the  record  perished  in  the  fire  of  London 
with  the  invaluable  registers  and  muniments  of  the  Cathed- 
ral of  St  Paul's  and  the  parish  churches  of  the  city.  His 
"Commentary  on  the  Second  Epistle  of  St  Peter"  has 
been  lately  republished.  His  sermons  were  like  those  of 
no  other  preacher.  They  have  a  rugged,  yet  forceful 
character  thoroughly  their  own.  His  sententious  aphor- 
isms were  innumerable.     Of  the  Gunpowder  Plot  he  says, 


His  Maxims  and  Quaint  Sayings.  i6i 

"  The  Papists  formerly  loved  faggots,  now  powder."     "  If 
these  are  Catholics,  there  are  no  cannibals." 

"  To  want  the  eyes  of  angels  is  far  worse  than  to  want  the 
eyes  of  beasts. 

"  Riches  are  called  bona  fortuna^  the  goods  of  fortune ; 
not  that  they  come  by  chance,  but  that  it  is  a  chance  if 
they  ever  be  good. 

"  Philip  was  wont  to  say  that  an  ass  laden  with  gold  would 
enter  the  gates  of  any  city ;  but  the  golden  load  of  bribes 
and  extortions  shall  bar  a  man  out  of  the  city  of  God. 
All  that  is  to  follow  is  like  quick-silver ;  it  will  be  running. 

"  Not  seldom  a  russet  coat  shrouds  as  high  a  heart  as  a 
silken  garment.  You  shall  have  a  paltry  cottage  send  up 
more  black  smoke  than  a  goodly  manor.  It  is  not,  there- 
fore, wealth,  but  vice,  that  excludes  men  out  of  heaven. 

"  There  are  some  that  '  kiss  their  own  hands,'  (Job  xxxi. 
27,)  for  every  good  turn  that  befals  them.  God  giveth 
them  blessings,  and  their  own  wit  or  strength  hath  the 
praise. 

"  It  is  usual  with  God,  when  He  hath  done  beating  His 
children,  to  throw  the  rod  into  the  fire.  Babylon  a  long 
time  shall  be  the  Lord's  hammer  to  bruise  the  nations,  at 
last  itself  shall  be  bruised.  Judas  did  an  act  that  redounds 
to  God's  eternal  honour  and  our  blessed  salvation,  yet  was 
his  wages  the  gallows.  All  these  hammers,  axes,  rods, 
saws,  swords,  instruments,  when  they  have  done  those 
offices  they  never  meant,  shall,  for  those  they  have  meant, 
be  thrown  to  confusion. 

"  The  five  senses  are  the  Cinque  Ports  where  all  the  great 
traffic  of  the  devil  is  taken  in. 

"When  the  heart  is  a  good  secretary,  the  tongue  is  a  good 
pen ;  but  when  the  heart  is  a  hollow  bell,  the  tongue  is  a 

L 


1 62  TJie  Style  of  Thomas  Adams. 

loud  and  lewd  clapper.  Those  undefiled  virgins  admitted 
to  follow  the  Lamb  have  this  praise,  '  In  their  mouth  was 
found  no  guile.' 

"Ask  the  woman  that  hath  conceived  a  child  in  her 
womb,  will  it  be  a  son  %  Peradventure  so  !  Will  it  be 
well  formed  and  featured?  Peradventure  so  !  Will  it  be 
wise  ?  Peradventure  so  !  Will  it  be  rich  %  Peradventure 
so  !  Will  it  be  long-lived  %  Peradventure  so  !  Will  it  be 
mortal?     Yes,  this  is  without  peradventure;  it  will  die  ! 

"  Such  a  voice."— 2  Peter,  i.  17. 
"  Tully  commends  voices  :  Socrates'  for  sweetness  ; 
Lysias'  for  subtlety;  Hyperides'  for  sharpness;  ^schines' 
for  shrillness ;  Demosthenes'  for  powerfulness ;  gravity 
in  Africanus ;  smoothness  in  Lcelius — rare  voices !  In 
holy  writ,  we  admire  a  sanctified  boldness  in  Peter ;  pro- 
foundness in  Paul ;  loftiness  in  John ;  vehemency  in  him 
and  his  brother  James,  those  two  sons  of  thunder ;  fer- 
vency in  Simon,  the  zealous.  Among  ecclesiastical  writers, 
we  admire  weight  in  Tertullian  ;  a  gracious  composure  of 
well-mattered  words  in  Lactantius;  a  flowing  speech  in 
C)^rian ;  a  familiar  statehness  in  Chrysostom ;  a  con- 
scionable  delight  in  Bernard  ;  and  all  these  graces  in  good 
Saint  Augustine.  Some  construed  the  Scriptures  allegori- 
cally,  as  Origen ;  some  literally,  as  Jerome ;  some  morally, 
as  Gregory;  others  pathetically,  as  Chrysostom;  others 
dogmatically,  as  Augustine.  The  new  writers  have  their 
several  voices  :  Peter  Martyr,  copiously  judicious ;  Zan- 
chius,  judiciously  copious.  Luther  wrote  with  a  coal  on 
the  walls  of  his  chamber  :  Res  et  verba  Philippus;  res,  sine 
verbis  Luther  us ;  verba,  sine  re  Erasmus :  nee  res  nee  verba 
Carlostadius,     Melancthon  had  both   style   and  matter; 


Adams'  LtgenuUy.  163 


Luther,  matter  without  style  j  Erasmus,  style  without 
matter ;  Carlstadt,  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  Calvin 
was  behind  none,  not  the  best  of  them,  for  a  sweet  diluci- 
dation  of  the  Scriptures,  and  urging  of  solid  arguments 
against  the  anti-Christians.  One  is  happy  in  expounding 
the  words ;  another,  in  delivering  the  matter ;  a  third,  for 
cases  of  conscience ;  a  fourth,  to  determine  the  school 
doubts.  But  now  put  all  these  together  :  a  hundred 
Peters  and  Pauls ;  a  thousand  Bernards  and  Augustines  ; 
a  million  of  Calvins  and  Melancthons.  Let  not  their 
voices  be  once  named  with  this  voice :  they  all  spake 
as  children.     This  is  the  voice  of  the  Anciejit  of  Days T 

The  ingenuity  with  which  he  describes  the  making  of 
the  tongue  has  never  been  surpassed  : — 

"  To  create  so  little  a  piece  of  flesh,  and  to  put  such 
vigour  into  it ;  to  give  it  neither  bones  nor  nerves,  yet  to 
make  it  stronger  than  arms  and  legs,  and  those  most  able 
and  serviceable  parts  of  the  body. 

"Because  it  is  so  forcible,  therefore  hath  the  most  wise 
God  ordained  that  it  shall  be  but  little ;  that  it  shall  be 
but  one.  That  so  the  parvity  and  singularity  may  abate 
the  vigour  of  it.  If  it  were  paired,  as  the  arms,  legs, 
hands,  feet,  it  would  be  much  more  unruly.  For  he  that 
cannot  tame  one  tongue,  how  would  he  be  troubled  with 
twain. 

"  Because  it  is  so  unruly,  the  Lord  hath  hedged  it  in,  as 
a  man  will  not  trust  a  wild  horse  in  an  open  pasture,  but 
prison  him  in  a  close  pound.  A  double  fence  hath  the 
Creator  given  to  confine  it— the  lips  and  the  teeth— that 
through  those  bounds  it  might  not  break." 


164  Archbishop  Lei^hton. 


ARCHBISHOP   LEIGHTON 

sometimes  reminds  one  of  Adams.     Witness  the  follow- 
ing:— 

Afflictions  of  the  Godly, 

"  The  more  the  children  of  God  walk  like  their  Father 
and  their  home,  the  more  unUke  must  they,  of  necessity, 
become  to  the  world  about  them,  and,  therefore,  become 
the  very  mark  of  all  their  enmities  and  malice.  And  thus, 
indeed,  the  godly,  though  the  sojis  of  peace,  are  the  im- 
proper causes,  the  occasion  of  much  noise  and  disturbance 
in  the  world ;  as  their  Lord,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  avows 
it  openly  of  Himself  in  that  sense,  '  I  came  not  to  se?id peace, 
hit  a  sword,  to  seta  mafi  at  vai'iajice  with  his  father,  and  the 
daughter  against  the  mother '  6^^.  (Matt.  x.  34.)  If  a  son 
in  a  family  begin  to  inquire  after  God,  and  withdraw  from 
their  profane  or  dead  way,  oh  what  a  clamour  rises  pre- 
sently !  '  Oh,  my  son,  or  daughter,  or  wife,  is  become  a 
plain  fool,'  &c.  And  then  all  is  done  that  may  be  to  quell 
and  vex  them,  and  make  their  life  grievous  to  them.  The 
exact  holy  walking  of  a  Christian  really  condemns  the 
v/orld  about  him  ;  shows  the  disorder  and  foulness  of  their 
profane  ways.  The  life  of  religion,  set  by  the  side  of  dead 
formality,  discovers  it  to  be  a  carcase,  a  lifeless  appear- 
ance ;  and  for  this,  neither  grossly  wicked,  nor  decent, 
formal  persons  can  well  digest  it.  There  is  in  the  life  of 
a  Christian  a  convincing  light,  that  shows  the  deformity  of 
the  works  of  darkness,  and  a  piercing  heart,  that  scorches 
the  ungodly,  and  stirs  and  troubles  their  consciences.  This 
they  cannot  endure,  and  hence  rises  in  them  a  contrary  fire 
of  wicked  hatred,  and  hence  the  trials,  the  fiery  trials,  of 
the  godly." 

When  this  great  and  pious  prelate  was  minister  of  a 


Laiuicclot  Andreiucs.  165 

parish  in  Scotland,  this  question  was  asked  of  the  ministers 
at  their  provincial  meeting  :  "  If  they  preached  on  the 
duties  of  the  times'?"  When  it  was  found  that  Mr  Leighton 
did  not,  and  he  was  blamed  for  the  omission,  he  answered: 
*'  If  all  the  brethren  have  preached  on  the  times,  may  not 
one  poor  brother  be  suffered  to  preach  on  eternity  ?  May 
ministers  preach  on  the  subject  of  eternity,  and  hearers 
hear,  in  the  view  of  that  great  and  momentous  concern  ! " 
The  following  is  the  character  of  Archbishop  Leighton, 
given  by  Bishop  Burnet : — "  He  had  the  greatest  elevation 
of  soul,  the  largest  compass  of  knowledge,  the  most  mor- 
tified and  heavenly  disposition  that  I  ever  yet  saw  in 
mortal.  He  had  the  greatest  parts  as  well  as  virtue,  with 
the  most  perfect  humility  that  I  ever  saw  in  man  j  and 
had  a  sublime  strain  in  preaching,  with  as  grave  a  gesture, 
and  such  a  majesty,  both  of  thought,  of  language,  and 
pronunciation,  that  I  never  once  saw  a  wandering  eye 
where  he  preached,  and  I  have  seen  whole  assemblies 
often  melt  in  tears  before  him ;  and  of  whom  I  can  say, 
with  great  truth,  that  in  a  free  and  frequent  conversation 
with  him  for  above  two-and-twenty  years,  I  never  saw 
him  say  an  idle  word,  or  a  word  that  had  not  a  direct 
tendency  to  edification  j  and  I  never  once  saw  him  in 
any  other  temper  but  that  I  wished  to  be  in  the  last 
moment  of  my  life." 

LAUNCELOT  ANDREWES, 

Afterwards  the  renowned  and  saintly  bishop  of  Win- 
chester, whose  remains  were  interred  in  the  Lady  Chapel 
of  St  Saviour's  Church,  Southwark,  was  some  time  Fellow 
of  Pembroke  Hall,  Cambridge.  "  There  was  then  at  that 
town,"  says  old  Aubrey,  in  his  gossipping  MSS,,  "  a  good 


1 66  The  Alderman  luJio  Slept  at  Church. 


fat  alderman,  that  was  wont  to  sleep  at  church,  which  he 
endeavoured  to  prevent,  but  could  not.  Well,  this  was 
preached  against,  as  a  mark  of  reprobation.  The  good 
man  was  exceedingly  troubled  at  it,  and  went  to  Mr 
Andrewes'  chamber  to  be  satisfied  in  point  of  conscience. 
Mr  Andrewes  told  him  it  was  an  ill  habit  of  body,  not  of 
mind,  and  advised  him,  on  Sundays,  to  make  a  sparing 
meal  at  dinner,  and  to  make  up  at  supper.  The  alder- 
man did  so  ;  but  sleep  came  on  him  again,  for  all  that, 
and  he  was  preached  against.  He  comes  again  to  Mr 
Andrewes,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  be  resolved,  who  then 
told  him  that  he  would  have  him  then  make  a  full  hearty 
meal,  as  he  was  used  to  do,  and  presently  after  take  out 
his  full  sleep.  The  alderman  followed  his  advice,  and 
came  to  St  Mary's  Church  the  Sunday  afterwards,  when 
the  preacher  was  provided  with  a  sermon  to  condemn  all 
those  who  slept  at  that  godly  exercise,  as  a  mark  of 
reprobation.  The  good  alderman,  having  taken  Mr  An- 
drewes' advice,  looks  at  the  preacher  all  the  sermon 
time,  and  spoils  his  design.  Mr  Andrewes  was  extremely 
spoken  of,  and  preached  against,  for  refusing  to  excuse 
a  sleeper  in  sermon- time  j  but  he  had  learning  and  wit  to 
defend  himself" 

Aubrey's  narrative  is  valuable,  as  illustrating  the  person- 
ality with  which  the  preachers  of  the  seventeenth  century 
attacked  the  vices  and  frailties  of  their  congregations. 

Dean  Swift  has  a  sermon  addressed  to  persons  of  this 
character.  He  takes  for  his  text  Acts  xx.  9,  the  account 
of  Eutychus  falling  asleep  in  a  window  during  the  preach- 
ing of  St  Paul.  *'  I  have  chosen,"  says  he,  "  these  words 
with  design,  if  possible,  to  disturb  some  part  in  this  audi- 
ence of  half  an  hour's  sleep,    for  the  convenience  and 


Hoiv  to  Rouse  the  Sleepers  in  Chiireh,  167 

exercise  thereof  this  place,  at  this  season  of  the  day,  is 
very  much  celebrated. 

"  The  preachers  now  in  the  world,  however  they  may 
exceed  St  Paul  in  the  art  of  setting  men  to  sleep,  do  ex- 
tremely fall  short  of  him  in  the  power  of  working  miracles; 
therefore  hearers  are  become  more  cautious,  so  as  to 
choose  more  safe  and  convenient  stations  and  postures 
for  their  repose,  without  hazard  of  their  persons,  and  upon 
the  whole  matter  choose  rather  to  trust  their  destruction 
to  a  miracle  than  their  safety." 

John  Aylmer,  bishop  of  London  in  the  time  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  having  a  congregation  not  so  attentive  as  they 
ought  to  have  been  to  what  he  was  teaching,  began  to 
read  out  of  the  Hebrew  Bible.  This  immediately  aroused 
his  hearers,  who  looked  up  to  him  as  amazed  that  he 
should  entertain  them  to  so  little  purpose  in  an  unknown 
language.  But  when  he  perceived  them  all  thoroughly 
awake  and  attentive,  he  proceeded  in  his  sermon,  after  he 
had  admonished  them  how  much  it  reflected  on  their 
good  sense  that,  in  matters  of  mere  novelty,  and  when 
they  understood  not  a  word,  they  should  so  carefully 
attend,  and  yet  be  so  very  negligent  in  regarding  those 
points  which  were  of  the  most  real  importance  to  them 
imaginable. 

A  Methodist  preacher  once  observing  that  several  of 
his  congregation  had  fallen  asleep,  suddenly  exclaimed, 
with  a  loud  voice,  "A  fire,  a  fire  ! "  "  Where,  where  ?"  cried 
his  auditors,  whom  he  had  roused  from  their  slumber; 
"  in  the  place  of  punishment,"  added  the  preacher,  "  for 
those  who  sleep  under  the  ministry  of  the  holy  gospel." 

Another  preacher,  of  a  different  persuasion,  more 
remarkable  for  drowsy  preachers,  finding  himself  in  the 


1 68  Thomas  a  Kcmpis. 


same  situation  with  his  auditory,  or,  more  Uterally  speak- 
ing, dor77tifory,  suddenly  stopped  in  his  discourse,  and 
addressing  himself  in  a  whispering  tone  to  a  number  of 
noisy  children  in  the  gallery,  *  Silence,  silence,  children,' 
said  he,  '  if  you  keep  up  such  a  noise,  you  will  wake  all 
the  old  folks  below.' " 

Sydney  Smith  is  reported  to  have  said  : — "  Some  men 
preach  as  if  they  thought  that  sin  is  to  be  taken  out  of 
man,  as  Eve  was  taken  out  of  Adam,  by  casting  him  into 
a  profound  slumber." 

Thomas  a  Kempis  narrates  the  following  anecdote  : — 

"A  certain  brother  once  began  to  sleep  a  little  at 
matins,  which  the  brother  next  to  him  observing,  whis- 
pered in  his  ear  this  one  word.  Hell,  which,  when  he  had 
heard,  terrified  and  aroused,  he  cast  off  all  his  desire  of 
slumber.  Think,  therefore,  thou  that  art  idle,  of  hell ; 
and  thou  wilt  not  sleep  in  the  choir  through  slothfulness." 

Bishop  Andrewes'  sermons  are  rich  in  suggestive  mate- 
rials for  the  young  and  unaccustomed  preacher.  But 
they  must  be  used  for  this  purpose  with  rare  caution.  A 
youthful  clergyman  once  found  the  state  of  his  health  to 
be  such,  that  he  could  not  sit  down  to  compose  a  homily 
for  the  Sunday  following.  "  Who  am  I  ?"  at  last  exclaimed 
he,  "that  I  should  rack  my  reluctant  brain  to  produce 
futilities,  when  I  have  upon  my  shelves  the  discourses  of 
the  sainted  Andrewes?"  He  took  down  a  volume,  and 
began  to  transcribe  such  passages  as  the  following  charac- 
teristic specimens  of  the  method  of  the  grand  old  pre- 
late : — 

On  the  Birth  of  Christ  at  Ephrata. 
"  Even  so,  Lord;  saith  our  Saviour,  for  so  is  thy  plea- 


Style  of  Bishop  Andrewes. 


sure.  And  since  it  is  His  pleasure  so  to  deal,  it  is  His 
further  pleasure  (and  it  is  our  lesson  out  of  this  Bethkheni 
minima.)  Even  this,  lie  minima  minimi.^  that  we  set  not 
little  by  that  which  is  little,  unless  we  will  so  set  by  Beth- 
lehem and  by  Christ,  and  all.  He  will  not  have  little 
places  viUified ;  little  Zoar  will  save  the  body,  little  Beth- 
lehem, the  soul ;  nor  have,  saith  Zacherie,  dies  parvus — 
little  times — despised,  unless  we  despise  this  day,  the  feast 
of  humility.  Nor  have  one  of  these  httle  ones  offended. 
Why?  for  Ephrata  may  make  amends  for,  parvula,  ex  te 

for  tu, 

^  %  %  ^  ■^  ^ 

"  Will  ye  now  to  this  inglorious  Signe  heare  a  glorious 
Song;  to  this  cratch  of  humilitie,  a  hymne  of  caelestiall 
harmonic  %  If  the  Signe  mislike  you,  ye  cannot  but  like 
the  Song,  and  the  Queer  that  sing  it.  The  song  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  reach  to,  will  ye  but  see  the  Queer  ?  and 
that  shall  serve  for  this  time  :  for,  by  all  meanes,  before  I 
end,  I  would  deal  with  somewhat  that  might  ballance 
this  SigJie  of  His  low  estate.  This  the  Evangelists  never 
faile  to  doe.  Ever,  they  look  to  this  point  carefully.  If 
they  mention  ought  that  may  offend,  to  wipe  it  away 
streight,  and  the  scandall  of  it,  by  some  other  high  regard. 
See  you  a  sort  of  poore  Shepherds  ?  Stay,  and  ye  shall 
see  a  troope  of  God's  Angels.  Heare  ye  one  say,  layd  in 
the  cratch  below  ?  Abide,  and  ye  shall  heare  many  sing, 
Glorie  on  high.,  in  honour  of  Him  that  lyeth  in  it." 

"  Vidisti  vilia,  (saith  St  Ambrose)  audi  mirifica :  Were 
the  things  meane  you  have  seen  T 

"  Wonderful  shall  they  be,  ye  now  shall  heare  and  see 
both.  Vilescit  prcEsepe,  ecce  Angelicis  cantibus  honoratur. 
Is  the  Cratch  meane  1     Meane  as  it  is,  it  is  honoured  with 


lyo  Style  of  BisJiop  Andrnves. 

the  musike  oi  Angels ;  it  hath  the  whole  Queer  oi  Heaven 
to  sing  about  it.  This  also  will  prove  a  signe,  if  it  be  well 
looked  into ;  a  counter-signe  to  the  other :  that  of  His 
humilities ;  this  of  His  gloried 

"  There  was  then  a  new  begetting,  this  day.  And  if  a 
new  begetting,  a  new  Paternitie  and  Fraternitie,  both.  By 
the  hodie  genuite  of  Christfnas,  how  soone  Hee  was  borne 
of  the  Virgifh  wombe.  Hee  became  our  brother  (sinne, 
except)  subject  to  all  our  infirmities  ;  so  to  mortalitie  and 
even  to  death  it  selfe.  And  by  death  that  brotherhood  had 
beene  dissolved,  but  for  this  dayes  rising.  By  the  hodie 
ge?mite  of  Easter,  as  soon  as  Hee  was  borne  again  of  the 
zvombe  of  the  grave,  Hee  begins  a  new  brotherhood,  founds 
a  nQ\N  fratei-nitie  straight ;  adopts  us  (wee  see)  anew  againe, 
by  His  fratres  nieos ;  and  thereby,  Hee  that  was  primo- 
genitiis  a  mortuis,  hQcoxnts priniogenitus  inter  multos  fratres : 
when  theyfrj-/  begotten  froiit  the  dead,  then  the  first  begotten 
in  this  respect  among  many  brethren.  Before  Hee  was 
onrs :  now  wee  are  His.  That  was  by  the  mother's  side; 
so  Hee  ours.  This  is  by  Fatre?n  vestnim,  the  Fathers 
side;  so  wee  His.  But  halfe-brothers  before ;  never  of 
whole  bloud,  till  now.  Now,  by  Father  and  Mother  both, 
Fratres  gei'viani,  Fratres  frater^-imi,  we  cannot  be  more." 

The  young  man  wrote  on  and  on,  saying  to  himself, 
"  who  am  I  that  I  should  dare  to  abridge  or  modernise 
'  the  giant  of  those  days  T'  So  he  wrote  out  a  whole 
sermon,  and  preached  it  at  the  parish  church.  He  kept 
the  people  an  hour  beyond  the  usual  time  of  dismissal. 
One  respectable  citizen,  whose  dinner  was  sj^oiled  in  con- 
sequence, said  to  another  on  leaving  church  :  "  Is  this 
Tractarianismr'  "  Awful,  my  dear  sir,  awful!"  was  the 
immediate  and  vehement  reply. 


Richard  Hooker.  171 


RICHARD    HOOKER 

Was  one  of  three  most  celebrated  preachers  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  :  Hooker,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Barrow.  Bishop 
Heber,  in  his  Ufe  of  Bishop  Taylor,  thus  describes  them  : — 

"  Of  such  a  triumvirate,  who  shall  settle  the  precedence  ? 
Yet  it  may,  perhaps,  be  not  far  from  the  truth  to  observe 
that  Hooker  claims  the  foremost  rank  in  sustained  and 
classic  dignity  of  style,  in  political  and  pragmatical  wisdom  ; 
that  to  Barrow  the  praise  must  be  assigned  of  the  closest 
and  clearest  views,  and  of  a  taste  the  most  controlled  and 
chastened  ;  but  that  in  imagination,  in  interest,  in  that 
which  more  properly  and  exclusively  deserves  the  name  of 
genius,  Taylor  is  to  be  placed  before  either.  The  first 
awes  most,  the  second  convinces  most,  the  third  persuades 
and  delights  most ;  and  (according  to  the  decision  of  one 
whose  own  rank  among  the  ornaments  of  English  literature 
yet  remains  to  be  determined  by  posterity — Dr  Parr) 
Hooker  is  the  object  of  our  reverence,  Barrow  of  our 
admiration,  and  Jeremy  Taylor  of  our  love." 

Take  the  following  as  a  specimen  of  Richard  Hooker's 
majestic  and  sonorous  periods  : — 

Music. 
"  Touching  musical  harmony,  whether  by  instrument  or 
by  voice,  it  being  but  of  high  and  low  in  sounds  a  due 
proportionable  disposition,  such,  notwithstanding,  is  the 
force  thereof,  and  so  pleasing  effects  it  hath  in  that  very 
part  of  man  which  is  most  divine,  that  some  have  been 
thereby  induced  to  think  that  the  soul  itself  by  nature  is, 
or  hath  in  it,  harmony — a  thing  which  delighteth  all  ages, 
and  beseemeth  all  states ;  a  thing  as  seasonable  in  grief 
as  in  joy  ;  as  decent  being  added  into  actions  of  greatest 


172  The  Style  of  Hooker. 

weight  and  solemnity,  as  being  used  when  men  most 
sequester  themselves  from  action.  The  reason  hereof  is 
an  admirable  facility  which  music  hath  to  express  and 
represent  to  the  mind,  more  inwardly  than  any  other 
sensible  mean,  the  very  standing,  rising  and  falling,  the  very 
steps  and  inflections  every  way,  the  turns  and  varieties  of 
all  passions  whereunto  the  mind  is  subject,  yea,  so  to 
imitate  them,  that,  whether  it  resemble  unto  us  the  same 
state  wherein  our  minds  already  are,  or  a  clean  contrary, 
we  are  not  more  contentedly  by  the  one  confirmed  than 
changed  and  led  away  by  the  other.  In  harmony  the  very 
image  and  character  even  of  virtue  and  vice  is  perceived, 
the  mind  delighted  with  their  resemblances,  and  brought, 
by  having  them  often  iterated,  into  a  love  of  the  things 
themselves.  For  which  cause  there  is  nothing  more  con- 
tagious and  pestilent  than  some  kinds  of  harmony,  than 
some  nothing  more  strong  and  potent  unto  good.  And  that 
there  is  such  a  difference  of  one  kind  from  another,  we 
need  no  proof  but  our  own  experience,  inasmuch  as  we 
are  at  the  hearing  of  some  more  inclined  unto  sorrow  and 
heaviness,  of  some  more  mollified  and  softened  in  mind  ; 
one  kind  apter  to  stay  and  settle  us,  another  to  move  and 
stir  our  affections.  There  is  that  draweth  to  a  marvellous 
grave  and  sober  mediocrity ;  there  is  also  that  carrieth  as 
it  were  into  ecstacies,  filling  the  mind  with  an  heavenly  joy, 
and,  for  the  time,  in  a  manner  severing  it  from  the  body ; 
so  that,  although  we  lay  altogether  aside  the  consideration 
of  ditty  or  matter,  the  very  harmony  of  sounds  being 
framed  in  due  sort,  and  carried  from  the  ear  to  the  spiritual 
faculties  of  our  souls,  is  by  a  native  puissance  and  efficacy 
greatly  available  to  bring  to  a  perfect  temper  whatsoever 
is  there  troubled  ;  apt  as  well  to  quicken  the  spirits  as  to 


The  Style  of  Hooker.  1 7  3 


allay  that  which  is  too  eager,  sovereign  against  melancholy 
and  despair,  forcible  to  draw  forth  tears  of  devotion  if  the 
mind  be  such  as  can  yield  them,  able  both  to  move  and 
to  moderate  all  affections.  The  Prophet  David  having 
therefore  singular  knowledge,  not  in  poetry  alone,  but  in 
music  also,  judged  them  both  to  be  things  most  necessary 
for  the  House  of  God,  [and]  left  behind  him  to  that  purpose 
a  number  of  divinely  indited  poems  ]  and  was  further  the 
author  of  adding  unto  poetry  melody  in  public  prayer, 
melody  both  vocal  and  instrumental,  for  the  raising  up  of 
men's  hearts,  and  the  sweetening  of  their  affections  towards 
God— in  which  considerations  the  Church  of  Christ  doth 
likewise  at  this  present  day  retain  it  as  an  ornament  to 
God's  service,  and  an  help  to  our  own  devotion.  They 
which,  under  pretence  of  the  law  ceremonial  abrogated, 
require  the  abrogation  of  instrumental  music,  approving, 
nevertheless,  the  use  of  vocal  melody  to  remain,  must 
show  some  reason  wherefore  the  one  should  be  thought  a 
legal  ceremony,  and  not  the  other.  In  church  music, 
curiosity  and  ostentation  of  art,  wanton  or  light,  or  unsuit- 
able harmony,  such  as  only  pleaseth  the  ear,  and  doth  not 
naturally  serve  to  the  very  kind  and  degree  of  those 
im.pressions  which  the  m.atter  that  goeth  with  it  leaveth,  or  is 
apt  to  leave,  in  men's  minds,  doth  rather  blemish  and  dis- 
grace that  we  do,  than  add  either  beauty  or  furtherance 
unto  it.  On  the  other  side,  these  faults  prevented  the 
force  and  efficacy  of  the  thing  itself,  w^hen  it  drowneth  not 
utterly,  but  fitly  suiteth  with  matter  altogether  sounding  to 
the  praise  of  God,  is  in  truth  most  admirable,  and  doth 
much  edify,  if  not  the  understanding,  because  it  teacheth 
not,  yet  surely  the  affection,  because  therein  it  worketh 
much.     They  must  have  hearts  very  dry  and  very  tough, 


174  Specime?is  from  Jeremy  Taylor. 


from  whom  the  melody  of  Psalms  doth  not  sometime  draw 
that  wherein  a  mind  religiously  affected  delighteth.  Be  it 
as  Rabanus  Maurus  observeth,  that  at  the  first  the  Church 
in  this  exercise  was  more  simple  and  plain  than  we  are  ; 
that  their  singing  was  Httle  more  than  only  a  melodious  kind 
of  pronunciation  ;  that  the  custom  which  we  now  use  was 
not  instituted  so  much  for  their  cause,  which  are  spiritual, 
as  to  the  end  that  into  grosser  and  heavier  minds,  whom 
bare  words  do  not  easily  move,  the  sweetness  of  melody 
might  make  some  entrance  for  good  things.  St  Bain  him- 
self, acknowledging  as  much,  did  not  think  that  from  such 
inventions  the  least  jot  of  estimation  and  credit  thereby 
should  be  derogated  :  '  For  (saith  he)  whereas  the  Holy 
Spirit  saw  that  mankind  is  unto  virtue  hardly  drawn,  and 
that  righteousness  is  the  less  accompted  of  by  reason  of 
the  proneness  of  our  affections  to  that  which  delighteth,  it 
pleased  the  wisdom  of  the  same  spirit  to  borrow  from 
melody  that  pleasure  which,  mingled  with  heavenly 
mysteries,  cau.seth  the  smoothness  and  softness  of  that 
which  toucheth  the  ear,  to  convey,  as  it  were  by  stealth, 
the  treasure  of  good  things  into  man's  mind.  To  this 
purpose  w^ere  those  harmonious  tunes  of  the  Psalms  devised 
for  us,  that  they  which  are  either  in  years  but  young,  or 
touching  perfection  of  virtue,  as  yet  not  grown  to  ripeness, 
might,  when  they  think  they  sing,  learn.  Oh  the  wise  con- 
ceit of  that  heavenly  Teacher,  which  hath  by  His  skill 
found  out  a  way,  that  doing  those  things  wherein  we 
delight  we  may  also  learn  that  whereby  we  profit." 

Let  the  following  extracts  from  Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor 
suffice : 

Patience, 

**  It  is  but  reasonable  to  bear  that  accident  patiently 


His  Fidy  aiid  Eloquence.  175 

which  God  sends,  since  impatience  does  but  entangle  us, 
hke  the  fluttering  of  a  bird  in  a  net,  but  cannot  at  all  ease 
our  trouble,  or  prevent  the  accident;  it  must  be  run 
through,  and  therefore  it  were  better  we  compose  ourselves 
to  a  patient  than  to  a  troubled  and  miserable  suffering." 

P)'ayer. 
"  Prayer  is  the  peace  of  our  spirit ;  the  stillness  of  our 
thoughts ;  the  evenness  of  recollection  ;  the  seat  of  medi- 
tation ;  the  rest  of  cares,  and  the  calm  of  our  tempest. 
Prayer  is  the  issue  of  a  great  mind,  of  untroubled 
thoughts ;  it  is  the  daughter  of  charity,  and  the  sister  of 
meekness." 

Perfection. 

"  There  is  a  sort  of  God's  dear  servants  who  walk  in  per- 
fectness  ;  and  they  have  a  degree  of  charity  and  divine- 
knowledge  more  than  we  can  discourse  of,  and  more  cer 
tain  than  the  demonstrations  of  geometry,  brighter  than 
the  sun,  and  in  deficient  as  the  light  of  heaven.  As  a 
flame  touches  a  flame  and  combines  into  splendour  and 
to  glory ;  so  is  the  spirit  of  a  man  united  unto  Christ  by 
the  Spirit  of  God." 

Afiger, 
"  Humility  is  the  most  excellent  natural  cure  for  anger  in 
the  world  ;  for  he  that  by  daily  considering  his  own  in- 
firmities and  failings  makes  the  error  of  his  neighbour  or 
servant  to  be  his  own  case,  and  remembers  that  he  daily 
needs  God's  pardon,  and  his  brother's  charity,  will  not  be 
apt  to  rage  at  the  levities,  or  misfortunes,  or  indiscretions 
of  another  greater  than  those  which  he  considers  that  he 
is  very  frequently  and  more  inexcusably  guilty." 


176  G7'eat  P7'eachers  love  Prova'hs. 

Theology — Charjcferisfics  of. 

"  Theology  is  rather  a  divine  life  than  a  divine  know- 
ledge." 

Meditation^  the  Tongue  of  the  Soul. 

"  Meditation  is  the  tongue  of  the  soul  and  the  language 
of  our  spirit ;  and  our  wandering  thoughts  in  prayer  are 
but  the  neglects  of  meditation  and  recessions  from  that 
duty ;  and  according  as  we  neglect  meditation,  so  are  our 
prayers  imperfect,  meditation  being  the  soul  of  prayer  and 
the  intention  of  our  spirit." 

Coi7ipany — Choice  of. 

"  No  man  can  be  provident  of  his  time,  who  is  not 
prudent  in  the  choice  of  his  company." 

All  great  preachers  have  abounded  in  proverbs.  St 
Bernard  once  said,  "  Love  me,  love  my  dog."  Dr  San- 
derson, urging  on  his  hearers  the  way  in  which  a  man 
sinks  in  iniquity,  exclaimed,  "  Over  shoes,  over  boots." 
Jeremy  Taylor  has  the  following  passage  : — "  The  crime 
of  backbiting  is  the  poison  of  charity ;  and  yet  so  common 
that  it  is  passed  into  a  proverb,  '  After  a  good  dinner  let 
us  sit  down  and  backbite  our  neighbours,'  "  Archbishop 
Trench  quotes  many  proverbs,  which  have  been  utilised 
by  Yorkshire  and  other  northern  preachers.  For  instance  : 
"  The  devil's  com  grinds  all  to  bran  ; "  "  God's  mill  grinds 
slow,  but  it  grinds  to  powder;"  "  What  we  weave  in  time 
we  must  wear  in  eternity ;"  "  When  every  one  sweeps  be- 
fore his  own  door,  the  street  is  soon  clean."  St  Augustine 
says,  "  There  is  one  case  of  deathbed  repentance  re- 
corded,"— alluding  of  course  to  the  thief  on  the  cross, — 
"that  no  one  should  despair;  and  OJily  one,  that  no  one 
slionld  presume." 


The  Practice  of  Reading  S£rmons.  177 

Reading  Sermons, 
*'  Behold  the  picture  !  is  it  like  %  Like  whom  ? 
The  things  that  mount  the  rostrum  with  a  skip, 
And  then  skip  down  again  :  pronounce  a  text ; 
Cry,  Hem  !  and  reading  what  they  never  wrote, 
Just  fifteen  minutes,  huddle  up  their  work, 
And  with  a  well-bred  whisper,  close  the  scene  !" 

COWPER. 

"  The  practice  of  writing  and  reading  sermons  from  the 
pulpit,  now  so  prevalent,  and  which  is  thought  to  act  as  a 
check  on  the  inane  fluency  and  mere  word-stringing  of 
some  popular  orators,  was  publicly  and  authoritatively 
denounced  in  the  time  of  Charles  II.,  who  issued  to  the 
University  of  Cambridge  the  following  ordinance  on  the 
subject : — 

"  '  Vice-Chancellor  and  Gentlemen, — Whereas  His 
Majesty  is  informed  that  the  practice  of  reading  ser- 
mons is  generally  taken  up  by  the  preachers  before  the 
University,  and  therefore  continues  even  before  himself; 
His  Majesty  hath  commanded  me  to  signify  to  you 
his  pleasure,  that  the  said  practice,  which  took  its  begin- 
ning from  the  disorders  of  the  times,  be  wholly  laid 
aside  ;  and  that  the  said  preachers  deliver  their  sermons, 
both  in  Latin  and  English,  by  memory,  without  book  ; 
as  being  a  way  of  preaching  which  His  Majesty  judgeth 
most  agreeable  to  the  use  of  foreign  churches,  to  the  cus- 
tom of  the  University  heretofore,  and  to  the  nature  of  that 
holy  exercise.  And  that  His  Majesty's  command  in  these 
premises,  may  be  duly  regarded  and  observed,  his  further 
pleasure  is.  That  the  names  of  all  such  ecclesiastical  per- 
sons as  shall  continue  the  present  supine  and  slothful 
WAY  OF  preaching,  be,  from  time  to  time,  signified  to  me 

M 


178  Dr  Sanderson's  Nervousness. 

by  the  Vice- Chancellor  for  the  time  being,  on  pain  of  His 
Majesty's  displeasure.     Oct.  8,  1674. — Monmouth/ 

"  To  condemn,  however,  without  reserve,  the  practice  of 
reading  sermons,  is  neither  wise  nor  expedient.  The 
danger  of  a  pastoral  ministry,  which  continues  to  preach 
extempore  in  the  same  pulpit,  for,  perhaps,  twenty  or  thirty 
years,  is  desultoriness,  sameness,  and  insipidity.  Intellec- 
tual idleness  is  generally  the  result  of  the  practice.  It 
must  also  be  remembered  that  the  reading  of  sermons  is 
often  a  matter  of  necessity  rather  than  choice.  Dr  San- 
derson, so  well  known  for  his  '  Cases  of  Conscience,' 
had  an  extraordinary  memory,  but  was  so  bashful  and 
timorous,  that  it  was  of  no  use  in  the  delivery  of  his  ser- 
mons, which  he  was  in  a  manner  compelled  to  read.  Dr 
Hammond  being  once  on  a  visit  to  him,  laboured  long  to 
persuade  him  to  trust  to  his  excellent  memory,  and  to  give 
up  the  habit  of  reading.  Dr  Sanderson  promised  to  make 
the  experiment ;  and  as  he  went  to  church  on  the  Sunday 
following,  he  placed  in  Dr  Hammond's  hands  the  manuscript 
of  the  sermon  he  intended  to  dehver.  The  sermon  was  a 
very  short  one ;  but  before  the  doctor  had  gone  through 
a  third  part  of  it,  he  became  disordered,  incoherent,  and 
almost  incapable  of  finishing.  On  his  return  he  said  with 
much  earnestness  to  Dr  Hammond,  '  Good  Doctor,  give 
me  my  sermon  and  know,  that  neither  you,  nor  any  man 
living,  shall  ever  persuade  me  to  preach  again  without 
book.'  Dr  Hammond  replied,  'Good  Doctor,  be  not 
angry;  for  if  ever  I  persuade  you  to  preach  again  without 
book,  I  will  give  you  leave  to  burn  all  those  that  I  am 
master  of' 

"  Old  Aubrey  says,  that  when  he  was  a  freshman  at  the 
university,  and  '  heard  Dr  Sanderson  read  his  first  lecture, 


Dr  Sander S071S  Sermons.  179 

he  was  out  in  the  Lord's  Prayer.'  Many  divines  always 
have  the  words  of  it  written  in  large  characters  before 
them,  when  they  go  into  the  pulpit,  for  fear  of  making  a 
sUp.  One  eminent  bishop  always  blundered  in  the  final 
benediction,  unless  he  had  his  prayer-book  open  on  the 
cushion  of  the  pulpit. 

"When  Dr  Sanderson's  sermons  were  printed  in  1632,  it 
was  remarked  that  the  best  sermons  which  were  ever  read, 
had  never  been  preached. 

"  Charles  II.  asked  Dr  Stillingfleet,  why  he  read  his 
sermons  before  him,  and  preached  without  book  else- 
where. The  doctor  said,  preaching  before  so  great  an 
audience  made  him  distrust  his  own  abilities.  But  in 
return,  how  is  it  that  your  Majesty  reads  your  speeches  in 
Parliament,  having  no  such  reason  ?  *  Why  (said  the 
king)  the  truth  is,  I  have  asked  my  subjects  so  often  for  so 
much  money,  that  I  am  really  ashamed  to  look  them  in 
the  face.' 

"  It  is  recorded  of  the  great  Massillon  that  he  once 
stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  a  sermon,  from  defect  of 
memory,  and  that  the  same  thing  happened,  through 
access  of  apprehension,  to  two  other  preachers,  whom 
Massillon  went  in  different  parts  of  the  same  day  to  hear. 

"  When  another  distinguished  French  orator  fell  into  a 
similar  difficulty,  he  adroitly  requested  the  immediate 
prayers  of  the  congregation  for  a  person  supposed  to  be 
near  death.  To  this  solemn  task  the  people  addressed 
themselves  in  silence,  and  the  preacher  had  time  to  collect 
his  thoughts. 

"  An  anecdote  is  told  of  a  Gascon  preacher  who,  after 
ascending  the  pulpit,  stood  scratching  his  head  for  a 
minute  or  two  endeavouring  to  collect  his  thoughts,  and 


i8o  Dr  Field. 


then  quietly  said  to  the  congregation,  *  Ah  !  my  friends, 
you  have  lost  a  capital  sermon/  and  quitted  the  pulpit." 

DR   FIELD, 

Dean  of  Gloucester,  was  a  learned  divine  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  whom  Fuller  has  enrolled  among  his 
worthies.  He  says  of  the  Dean,  "  whose  memory  dwelleth 
like  a  field,  whom  the  Lord  hath  blessed."  He  often 
preached  before  James  I.,  especially  in  his  progress  through 
Hampshire  in  1609.  The  first  time  his  Majesty  heard 
him,  he  observed  in  the  same  punning  spirit  with  Fuller, 
and  which  was  the  prevalent  characteristic  of  the  age, 
"  This  is  a  field  for  the  Lord  to  dwell  in."  The  king 
gave  him  the  promise  of  a  bishopric,  but  never  fulfilled  it. 
When  he  heard  of  the  dean's  death,  his  conscience  appears 
to  have  smitten  him.  He  expressed  some  regret,  and  said, 
"  I  should  have  done  more  for  that  man." 

JOHN    KING 

Was  another  eminent  divine,  whom  James  L  used  to  style 
the  KING  of  preachers.  He  became  bishop  of  London  in 
161 1.  After  his  elevation  to  the  mitre,  he  never  missed 
delivering  a  sermon  on  Sunday,  when  his  health  permitted. 
Lord  Chief-Justice  Coke  used  to  say  of  this  eloquent  pre- 
late, "  that  he  was  the  best  preacher  in  the  Star  Chamber 
in  his  time." 

ANDREW   CANT. 

In  the  churchyard  of  Aberdeen  lies  one  Andrew  Cant, 
minister  of  Aberdeen,  from  whom  the  Spectator  derives 
the  word  to  cant :  but,  in  all  probability,  Andrew  canted 
no  more  than  the  rest  of  his  brethren,  for  he  lived  in  a 


Aiidreiv  Cant.  i8i 


cantmg2igQ^  Charles  I.'s  time.  Still  Andrew  did  not  cant  a 
little,  for  it  appears  that  when  a  certain  Castle  was  be- 
sieged by  the  Marquis  of  Montrose,  it  was  defended  by 
the  Earl  Marechal,  by  the  persuasion  of  Andrew  Cant. 
The  Marquis,  according  to  the  barbarous  custom  of  the 
time,  set  fire  to  the  country  around,  which  when  Andrew 
saw,  he  told  the  noble  owner,  that  the  flames  of  his  houses 
were  a  siveet-snielling  savour  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord — sup- 
posing that  his  Lordship  suffered  for  righteousness'  sake. 

DR  THOMAS, 

Some  time  Bishop  of  Worcester,  was,  before  his  elevation 
to  that  see,  vicar  of  Laugharn.  In  the  year  1645  ^  party 
of  the  Parliamentarian  cavalry  came  to  the  village,  and 
inquired  whether  its  Popish  vicar  was  still  there,  and 
whether  he  continued  reading  the  Hturgy,  and  praying  for 
the  queen  %  One  of  them  added  that  he  would  go  to 
church  next  Sunday,  and  if  Mr  Thomas  dared  to  pray  for 

that ,  he  would  certainly  pistol  him.     Information  of 

the  threat  having  been  conveyed  to  the  vicar,  his  friends 
earnestly  besought  him  to  absent  himself;  but  thinking 
that  this  would  be  a  cowardly  deviation  from  his  duty,  he 
resolutely  refused.  He  had  no  sooner  begun  the  service 
than  the  soldiers  came,  and  placed  themselves  in  the  pew 
next  to  him ;  and  when  he  prayed  for  the  queen  one  of 
them  snatched  the  book  out  of  his  hand,  and  threw  it  at 
his  head,  exclaiming,  with  a  coarse  expression :   "  What 

do  you  mean  by  praying  for  that % "     The  preacher 

bore  the  insult  with  so  much  Christian  meekness  and  com- 
posure, that  the  soldier  who  had  been  guilty  of  it,  imme- 
diately slunk  away  ashamed  and  confused.  Mr  Thomas 
continued  the  service,  and  delivered  an  excellent  discourse 


1 82  Dr  Isaac  Barrow. 


with  great  spirit  and  animation.  On  his  return  home,  he 
found  the  soldiers  waiting  to  beg  his  pardon,  and  desire 
his  prayers  to  God  on  their  behalf.  The  Parliamentary 
Committee  soon  afterwards  deprived  this  resolute  pastor 
of  his  living ;  but  on  the  Restoration  of  Charles  II.,  he 
was  rewarded  for  his  brave  loyalty.  He  was  appointed 
Bishop  of  Worcester.  He  faithfully  served  the  Church 
and  State  in  this  see  until  the  Revolution  of  1688,  when 
refusing  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  King  William 
III.,  he  would  have  been  turned  out  of  his  see,  had  not 
death  intervened  to  spare  him  this  indignity.  His  objec- 
tions to  the  oath  were  conscientious,  and  could  not  be 
overcome.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend,  he  says  :  "  If  my 
heart  do  not  deceive  me,  and  God's  grace  do  not  fail 
me,  I  think  I  could  suffer  at  a  stake  rather  than  take  this 
oath!" 

A  curious  letter  is  extant,  addressed  by  Archbishop 
Bancroft  to  this  prelate  in  1683,  in  which  the  former  com- 
plains of  a  custom  which  prevailed  at  that  time,  and  was 
long  afterwards  continued,  of  having  a  sermon  preached 
in  the  nave  of  the  cathedral,  while  the  prayers  were  read 
in  the  choir.  The  origin  of  the  custom  was,  that,  as  there 
used  to  be  no  sermon  in  the  parish  churches,  the  in- 
habitants of  the  various  parishes  might,  after  their  own 
prayers  were  concluded,  attend  the  sermon  of  some  emi- 
nent preacher  in  the  cathedral. 

DR  ISAAC  BARROW 

Was  remarkable  not  only  for  the  excellence,  but  the  ex- 
traordinary length  of  his  sermons.  In  preaching  the 
annual  Spital  sermon  before  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the 
corporation,  he  spent  upwards  of  three  hours  and  a  half. 


The  Length  of  his  Sermons.  183 

Being  asked,  after  he  came  down  from  the  pulpit,  if  he 
was  not  tired,  he  rephed,  "  Yes,  indeed,  I  began  to  grow 
weary  of  standing  so  long." 

He  was  once  requested  by  Atterbury,  the  Bishop  of 
Rochester,  then  Dean  of  Westminster,  to  preach  at  the 
Abbey,  but  not  to  make  too  long  a  sermon,  for  that  the 
congregation  preferred  short  ones,  and  wxre  accustomed 
to  them.  The  doctor  replied,  "  My  lord,  I  will  show 
you  my  sermon,"  and  immediately  gave  it  to  the  bishop. 
The  sermon  was  divided  into  two  parts,  one  treating  on 
slander,  and  the  other  on  lies.  The  dean  earnestly  desired 
him  to  preach  the  first  part  of  it  only;  and  to  this  he 
consented,  though  not  without  some  reluctance.  This 
portion  of  his  discourse  occupied  in  the  delivery  an  hour 
and  a  half. 

On  another  occasion,  Dr  Barrow  preached  in  the  Abbey 
on  a  holiday.  It  was  then  customary  for  the  servants  of 
tlie  church  on  all  festivals,  except  Sundays,  between  the 
sermon  and  the  evening  prayer,  to  show  the  tombs  and 
monuments  in  the  Abbey  to  such  strangers  as  would  pur- 
chase the  privilege  for  twopence.  Perceiving  Dr  Barrow 
in  the  pulpit  after  the  hour  was  past,  and  fearing  to  lose 
that  time  in  heariftg,  which  they  thought  they  could  more 
profitably  employ  in  7'eceivi7tg,  the  servants  of  the  church 
became  impatient,  and  most  indecently  caused  the  organ 
to  be  struck  up  against  him ;  nor  would  they  cease  playing 
until  the  doctor  was  silenced,  which  was  not  until  he 
despaired  of  being  heard,  or  of  exhausting  the  organ 
blower. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that  the  length  of 
Dr  Barrow's  sermons  was  their  only  fault.  "In  him," 
says  that  excellent  critic,  Dr  Blair,  *'one  admires  more 


184  Barrow's  Prodigious  Invention. 


the  prodigious  fecundity  of  his  invention,  and  the  uncom- 
mon strength  of  his  conceptions,  than  the  felicity  of  his 
execution,  or  his  talent  in  composition.  We  see  a  genius 
far  surpassing  the  common,  peculiar,  indeed,  almost  to 
himself;  but  that  genius  often  shooting  wild,  and  un- 
chastised  by  any  discipline  or  study  of  eloquence.  On 
every  subject  he  multiplies  words  with  an  overflowing 
copiousness  ;  but  it  is  always  a  torrent  of  strong  ideas  and 
significant  expressions  which  he  pours  forth.  Of  the  truth 
of  the  last  observation,  the  following  definition  of  wit  in  a 
sermon  against  foolish  talking  and  jesting  will  furnish  a 
pleasing  specimen  : — '  Wit,'  says  he,  '  is  a  thing  so  versa- 
tile and  multiform,  appearing  in  so  many  shapes,  so  many 
postures,  so  many  garbs,  so  variously  apprehended  by 
several  eyes  and  judgments,  that  it  seemeth  no  less  hard 
to  settle  a  clear  and  certain  notion  thereof,  than  to  make 
a  portrait  of  Proteus,  or  to  define  the  figure  of  the  fleeting 
air.  Sometimes  it  lieth  in  pert  allusions  to  a  known  story, 
or  in  seasonable  application  of  a  trivial  saying,  or  in  forg- 
ing an  apposite  tale.  Sometimes  it  playeth  on  words  and 
phrases,  taking  advantage  from  the  ambiguity  of  their 
sense,  or  the  aflinity  of  their  sound.  Sometimes  it  is 
wrapped  up  in  a  dress  of  humorous  expression.  Some- 
times it  lurketh  under  an  odd  similitude.  Sometimes  it  is 
lodged  in  a  sly  question  ;  in  a  smart  answer;  in  a  quirkish 
reason  ;  in  a  shrewd  intimation ;  in  cunningly  diverting, 
or  smartly  retorting,  an  objection.  Sometimes  it  is  couched 
in  a  bold  scheme  of  speech ;  in  a  tart  irony,  or  in  a  lusty 
hyperbole ;  in  a  startling  metaphor,  in  a  plausible  recon- 
ciUng  of  contradictions,  or  in  acute  nonsense.  Sometimes 
a  scenical  representation  of  persons  or  things,  a  counter- 
feit speech,  a  mimical  look  or  gesture,  passeth  for  it. 


Dr  Harris  of  HanwelL  185 

Sometimes  an  affected  simplicity,  sometimes  a  presump- 
tuous bluntness,  gives  it  being.  Sometimes  it  riseth  only 
from  a  lucky  hitting  of  what  is  strange  ;  sometimes  from 
a  crafty  wresting  obvious  matter  to  the  purpose.  Often  it 
consisteth  in  one  knows  not  what,  and  springeth  up,  one 
can  hardly  tell  how.  Its  ways  are  unaccountable  and  inex- 
plicable, being  answerable  to  the  numberless  ravings  of 
fancy  and  windings  of  language.  It  raiseth  admiration,  as 
signifying  a  nimble  sagacity  of  apprehension,  a  special 
felicity  of  invention,  a  vivacity  of  spirit,  a  reach  of  wit 
more  than  vulgar  ;  it  seemeth  to  argue  a  rare  quickness  of 
parts,  that  one  can  fetch  in  remote  conceits  applicable ; 
a  notable  skill,  that  can  dexterously  accommodate  them  to 
the  purpose  before  him,  together  with  a  lively  briskness  of 
humour,  not  apt  to  damp  those  sportful  flashes  of  imagina- 
tion. It  also  procureth  delight  by  gratifying  curiosity  with 
its  rareness,  or  semblance  of  difficulty ;  by  diverting  the 
mind  from  its  road  of  serious  thoughts ;  by  instilling  gaiety 
and  airiness  of  spirits ;  by  provoking  to  such  dispositions 
of  gaiety,  in  way  of  emulation  or  complaisance ;  and  by 
seasoning  matters  otherwise  distasteful  or  insipid  with  an 
unusual  and  strong  grateful  savour." 

DR    HARRIS, 

The  minister  of  Hanwell  during  the  civil  wars,  frequently 
had  mihtary  officers  quartered  at  his  house.  A  party  of 
them,  being  sadly  unmindful  of  the  respect  due  to  the 
presence  of  a  Christian  minister,  if  not  to  Christianity 
itself,  indulged  in  the  vulgar  habit  of  profane  swearing. 
The  doctor  noticed  this,  and  on  the  following  Sunday 
preached  from  these  words  :  "  Above  all  things,  my 
brethren,  swear  not."     The  soldiers  were  greatly  enraged. 


i86  Dr  Lyons,  Bishop  of  Cork. 

They  considered  that  the  sermon  was  directly  aimed  at 
them,  and  they  swore  that  they  would  shoot  Dr  Harris,  if 
he  ever  discoursed  on  the  subject  again.  He  was  not, 
however,  to  be  intimidated.  On  the  following  Sunday  he 
not  only  preached  from  the  same  text,  but  inveighed  in 
still  stronger  terms  against  the  odious  vice  of  taking  pro- 
fane oaths.  As  he  was  preaching,  a  soldier  levelled  his 
carbine  at  him ;  but  he  went  on  to  the  conclusion  of  his 
sermon  without  the  slightest  apparent  hesitation  or  fear. 
His  courage  was  not  unrewarded,  for  they  afterwards 
treated  him  with  the  profoundest  reverence. 

DR    LYONS, 

Who  was  preferred  to  the  bishopric  of  Cork,  Cloyne,  and 
Ross,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  held  the  benefice 
for  twenty  years,  though  he  never  preached  but  one 
sermon,  and  that  was  on  the  death  of  her  Majesty.  He 
then  thought  it  his  duty  to  pay  the  last  honours  to  his 
royal  mistress,  and,  accordingly,  he  ascended  the  pulpit  of 
Christ-Church,  Cork,  where  he  delivered  an  able  discourse 
on  the  sad  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  great  and  amiable 
qualities  of  the  Queen.  He  is  said  to  have  concluded  in 
the  following  warm  but  whimsical  manner  : — "  Let  those 
that  feel  this  loss  deplore  with  me  on  this  melancholy 
occasion  ;  but  if  there  be  any  that  hear  me  that  have 
secretly  wished  for  this  event,  (as,  perhaps,  there  may  be,) 
they  have  now  got  their  wish,  and  may  it  do  them  all  the 
good  they  deserve  !  " 

The  bishop's  aversion  to  preaching  is  said  to  have  arisen 
from  his  not  having  been  originally  intended  for  the  Chris- 
tian ministry.  His  promotion  was  altogether  singular.  The 
tradition  concerning  it  is,  that  he  was  captain  of  a  ship  of 


Dr  Robert  South.  187 


war,  and  distinguished  himself  so  gallantly  in  several 
actions  against  the  Spaniards,  that  on  being  introduced  to 
the  Queen,  she  told  him  he  should  have  the  first  vacancy 
that  offered.  The  honest  captain,  who  understood  the 
Queen  literally^  soon  after  hearing  of  a  vacancy  in 
the  See  of  Cork,  immediately  set  out  for  Court,  and 
claimed  the  royal  promise.  The  Queen,  astonished  at 
the  request,  for  a  time  remonstrated  against  the  impro- 
priety of  it,  and  said  that  she  could  never  confer  a  mitre 
on  a  naval  captain.  In  answer,  he  pleaded  the  royal  pro- 
mise, and  relied  on  it.  The  Queen  then  said  that  she 
would  take  a  few  days  to  consider  the  matter.  She  found 
that  he  was  a  devout  man,  of  high  moral  character,  as 
well  as  a  commander  of  brilliant  intrepidity.  So  she  sent 
for  him,  and  conferred  on  him  the  bishopric,  saying, 
"  She  hoped  he  would  take  as  good  care  of  the  Church  as 
he  had  done  of  the  State."  But  the  question  arises,  AVas 
he  ordained  deacon  and  priest  by  accumulation,  and  after- 
wards consecrated  bishop  % 

DR  ROBERT  SOUTH 

Was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  preachers  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  Many  interesting  anecdotes  are  told 
concerning  him.  On  one  occasion  he  preached,  as  chap- 
lain to  Charles  II.,  before  the  Court,  which,  at  that 
disastrous  period,  was  composed  of  the  most  profligate 
men  of  the  nation.  He  soon  perceived  that  his  reluctant 
hearers  were  fast  asleep.  He  stopped  short  in  his  har- 
angue, and  changing  his  tone  of  voice  into  one  of  solemn 
remonstrance,  he  called  out  to  Lord  Lauderdale  three 
times.  His  Lordship  stood  up.  "  My  Lord,"  said  South, 
within  imitable  dignity,  "I  am  sorry  to   interrupt   your 


Dr  Robert  South, 


repose,  but  I  must  beg  of  you  that  you  will  not  snore 
quite  so  loudly,  lest  you  awaken  his  Majesty." 

On  another  occasion,  when  preaching  before  the  King, 
he  chose  for  his  text  these  words  :  "  The  lot  is  cast  into 
the  lap,  but  the  disposing  of  it  is  of  the  Lord."  In  this 
sermon  he  introduced  three  remarkable  instances  of  unex- 
pected advancement : — 

"  Who  that  looked  upon  Agathocles  first  handling  the 
clay,  and  making  pots  under  his  father,  and  afterwards 
turning  robber,  could  have  thought  that  from  such  a  con- 
dition he  should  have  come  to  be  King  of  Sicily  ? 

"Who  that  had  seen  Massaniello,  a  poor  fisherman 
with  his  red  cap  and  his  angle,  would  have  reckoned  it 
possible  to  see  such  a  pitiful  thing,  within  a  week  after, 
shining  in  his  cloth  of  gold,  and  with  a  word  or  nod 
absolutely  commanding  the  whole  city  of  Naples  % 

"  And  who  that  beheld  such  a  bankrupt,  beggarly  fellow 
as  Cromwell,  first  entering  the  Parliament  House  with  a 
threadbare  torn  cloak,  greasy  hat,  (perhaps  neither  of  them 
paid  for,)  could  have  suspected  that  in  the  space  of  so  few 
years,  he  should,  by  the  murder  of  one  king,  and  the 
banishment  of  another,  ascend  the  throne  f  At  which 
the  king  fell  into  a  fit  of  laughter;  and  turning  to  Dr 
South's  patron,  Mr  Lawrence  Hyde,  afterwards  Lord 
Rochester,  said,  "  Odds  fish.  Lory,  your  chaplain  must  be 
a  bishop,  therefore  put  me  in  mind  of  him  at  the  next 
death." 

Bishop  Kennet  says  of  South,  that  he  "  laboured  very 
much  to  compose  his  sermons ;  and,  in  the  pulpit,  worked 
up  his  body  when  he  came  to  a  piece  of  wit,  or  any 
notable  saying." 

His  wit  was  certainly  the  least  of  his  recommendations, 


His  Style.  189 


though  it  was  sometimes  fearfully  pungent  and  sarcastic. 
He  sometimes  indulged  in  it  to  excess,  and  violated  the 
awful  sanctity  of  the  pulpit.  Sherlock  is  said  to  have 
accused  him  of  employing  the  doubtful  weapon  of  wit  in 
a  controversy  on  the  Holy  Trinity.  South  made  but  a 
sorry  and  unsatisfactory  reply :  "  Had  it  pleased  Provi- 
dence to  have  made  you  a  lock,  what  would  you  have 
done  ?" 

In  the  year  1680,  when  Dr  South  was  rector  of  Islip 
in  Oxfordshire,  a  small  chapel  in  the  gift  of  the  rector 
became  vacant.  Dr  South's  curate,  who,  like  too  many 
curates  at  present,  performed  the  whole  duty  of  the  parish 
without  an  adequate  remuneration,  applied  for  the  vacant 
situation.  This  was  refused.  The  following  Sunday  being 
the  fifteenth  day  of  the  month,  he  devoutly  expressed  his 
feelings  in  the  regular  course  of  the  service  by  thus  read- 
ing the  seventh  verse  of  the  seventy-fifth  psalm,  "  Promo- 
tion cometh  neither  from  the  east,  nor  from  the  west,  nor 
from  thee  (the).  South."  The  doctor  conceded  to  wit  what 
merit  had  failed  to  obtain,  and  the  curate  found  himself 
in  possession  of  the  wished-for  dignity — "  passing  rich, 
with  forty  pounds  a  year." 

The  following  passages  are  specimens  of  his  nobler  and 
better  method  : — 

Man  formed  in  the  image  of  God. 
"  Such  was  his  understandings  his  noblest  faculty.  It  was 
then  sublime,  clear,  aspiring,  and,  as  it  were,  the  soul's 
upper  region,  lofty  and  serene,  free  from  the  vapours  and 
disturbances  of  the  inferior  affections.  It  was  the  leading, 
controlling  faculty ;  all  the  passions  wore  the  colours  of 
reason ;  it  was  not  consul,  but  dictator. 


190  Dr  SoiitUs  Style. 


"  Discourse  was  then  almost  as  quick  as  intuition ;  it 
was  nimble  in  proposing,  firm  in  concluding;  it  could 
sooner  determine  than  now  it  can  dispute.  Like  the  sun, 
it  had  both  light  and  agility;  it  knew  no  rest,  but  in 
motion ;  no  quiet,  but  in  activity ;  it  did  not  so  properly 
apprehend  as  irradiate  the  object ;  not  so  much  find 
as  make  things  intelligible  :  it  did  arbitrate  upon  the 
several  reports  of  sense,  and  all  the  varieties  of  imagina- 
tion ;  not  like  the  drowsy  judge,  only  hearing,  but  also 
directing  their  verdict.  In  fine,  it  was  vegete,  quick,  and 
lively;  open  as  the  day,  untainted  as  the  morning,  full 
of  the  innocence  and  sprightliness  of  youth :  it  gave  the 
soul  a  bright  and  full  view  into  all  things,  and  was  not 
only  a  window,  but  itself  a  prospect.  Briefly,  there  is  as 
much  difference  between  the  clear  representation  of  the 
understanding  then,  and  the  obscure  discoveries  that  it 
makes  now,  as  there  is  between  the  prospect  of  a  case- 
ment and  of  a  keyhole." 

Adam  a  Philosophej'. 

"  Adam  came  into  the  world  a  philosopher,  which  suffi- 
ciently appeared  by  his  writing  the  nature  of  things  upon 
their  names.  He  could  view  essences  in  themselves,  and 
read  forms  without  the  comment  of  their  respective  pro- 
perties ;  he  could  see  consequents  yet  dormant  in  their 
principles,  and  effects  yet  unborn,  and  in  the  womb  of 
their  causes  ;  his  understanding  could  almost  pierce  into 
future  contingents,  his  conjectures  improving  even  to  pro- 
l^hecy  or  the  certainties  of  prediction  ;  till  his  fall,  it  was 
ignorant  of  nothing  but  of  sin  ;  or  at  least  it  rested  in  the 
notion,  without  the  smart  of  the  experiment.  Could  any 
difficulty  have  been  proposed,  the  resolution  would  have 


His  Description  of  Adam  before  the  Fall.  191 

been  as  early  as  the  proposal ;  it  could  not  have  had  time 
to  settle  into  doubt.  Like  a  better  Archimedes,  the 
issue  of  all  his  inquiries  was  an  eU^^jxa,  an  su^^?ca,  the  off- 
spring of  his  brain  without  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  Study 
was  not  then  a  duty — night  watchings  were  needless ;  the 
light  of  reason  wanted  not  the  assistance  of  a  candle. 
This  is  the  doom  of  fallen  man  ;  to  labour  in  the  fire  ;  to 
seek  truth  in  profunda;  to  exhaust  his  time  and  impair  his 
health,  and  perhaps  to  spin  out  his  days  and  himself  into 
one  pitiful,  controverted  conclusion.  There  was  then  no 
poring,  no  struggling  with  memory — no  straining  for  in- 
vention ;  his  faculties  were  quick  and  expedite ;  they 
answered  without  knocking  ;  they  were  ready  upon  the 
first  summons ;  there  was  freedom  and  firmness  in  all 
their  operations.  I  confess  it  is  difficult  for  us,  who  date 
our  ignorance  from  our  first  being,  and  were  still  bred  up 
with  the  same  infirmities  about  us  with  which  we  were 
born,  to  raise  our  thoughts  and  imagination  to  those 
intellectual  perfections  that  attended  our  nature  in  the 
time  of  innocence,  as  it  is  for  a  peasant,  bred  up  in  the 
obscurities  of  a  cottage,  to  fancy  in  his  mind  the  unseen 
splendours  of  a  court.  But  by  rating  positives  by  their 
privatives  and  other  arts  of  reason,  by  v/hich  discourse 
supphes  the  want  of  the  reports  of  sense,  we  may  collect 
the  excellency  of  the  understanding  then,  by  the  glorious 
remainders  of  it  now,  and  guess  at  the  stateliness  of  the 
building  by  the  magnificence  of  its  ruins.  All  these  arts, 
rarities,  and  inventions,  which  vulgar  minds  gaze  at,  the 
ingenious  pursue,  and  all  admire,  are  but  the  reliques  of 
an  intellect  defaced  with  sin  and  time.  We  admire  it 
now,  only  a.s  antiquaries  do  a  piece  of  old  coin,  for  the 
stamp  it  once  bore,  and  not  for  those  vanishing  linea- 


192  Charles  II.  and  Dr  South. 


ments  and  disappearing  draughts  that  remain  upon  it  at 
present.  And  certainly  that  must  needs  have  been  very- 
glorious,  the  decays  of  which  are  so  admirable.  He  that 
is  comely  when  old  and  decrepid,  surely  was  very  beau- 
tiful when  he  was  young.  An  Aristotle  was  but  the 
rubbish  of  an  Adam,  and  Athens  but  the  rudiments  of 
paradise." 

An  anecdote  is  related  of  South  which  illustrates  the 
condensation  of  his  style.  On  one  occasion  Charles  II., 
complimenting  him  on  his  sermon,  said,  *'I  wish  you 
had  had  time  to  make  it  longer."  The  epigrammatic 
South  replied,  "  I  wish,  sire,  I  had  had  time  to  make  it 
shorter." 

The  witty  and  caustic  Dean  Swift  found  a  party  once 
indifferent  to  his  observations.  He  exclaimed  with  con- 
siderable petulance,  "  My  remarks  could  not  be  less 
attended  to  if  they  were  delivered  from  the  pulpit." 

The  following  pithy  lines  were  especially  appHcable  to 
the  sermons  of  the  seventeenth  century  : — 

"  Some  take  a  text  sublime  and  fraught  with  sense. 
But  quickly  fall  into  impertinence. 
On  trifles  eloquent  with  great  delight 
They  flourish  out  on  some  strange  mystic  rite ; 
But  to  subdue  the  passions,  or  direct, 
And  all  Ufe's  moral  duties,  they  neglect. 
Most  preachers  err,  except  the  wiser  i^^N, 
Thinking  estabhshed  doctrines,  therefore,  true. 
Others,  too  fond  of  novelty  and  schemes, 
Amuse  the  world  with  airy,  idle  dreams. 
Thus  too  much  faith  or  too  presuming  wit 
Are  rocks  where  bigots  or  freethinkers  split. 


Quaint  Titles  of  Sermons.  193 

'Tis  not  enough  that  what  you  say  is  true, 

To  make  us  feel  it  you  must  feel  it  too, 

Show  yourself  warm,  and  that  will  warmth  impart 

To  every  hearer's  sympathising  heart." 

The  Titles 
Of  some  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  century  sermons 
were  strange,  and  to  modern  apprehension  comical  and 
irreverent : — "  Baruch's  Sore  Gently  Opened,  and  the 
Salve  Skilfully  Applied."  "  The  Church's  Bowel  Com- 
plaint." ''  The  Snuffers  of  Divine  Love."  "  The  Spiritual 
Mustard  Pot  to  Make  the  Soul  Sneeze  with  Devotion."  "  A 
Pack  of  Cards  to  Win  Christ,"  &c.  "  A  Spiritual  Spicerie  ; 
containing  sundrie  sweet  Tractates  of  Devotion  and  Piety," 
written  by  Richard  Brathwaithe,  pubHshed  in  1638;  with  an 
odd  quotation  from  Canticles,  c.  i.  12,  andc.  v.  13.  "The 
White  Wolfe,  a  sermon,"  1627.  "The  Nail  Hit  on  the 
Head,"  1644.  "  The  Wheel  Turned/'  1647.  "  Love  and 
Fear,  a  marriage  sermon,"  1668.  "Two  Sticks  made 
One,"  sermon,  1691.  "The  Divine  Lanthorne,"  1686. 
"  The  Best  Fee  Simple,"  1657.  And  a  religious  book  by 
one  Homer,  called  Cuckoldom's  Glory,  or  the  Horns  of 
the  Righteous  exalted,  with  an  emblematical  engraved 
frontispiece.  "  Crumbs  of  Comfort  for  Chickens  of 
Grace."  And  again  "Deep  things  of  God,  or  milk  and 
strong  meat  containing  spiritual  and  experimental  re- 
marks, and  meditations,  suited  to  the  cases  of  babes, 
young  men,  and  fathers,"  &c ,  i2mo.  2s.  boards,  Matthews, 
1788.  "A  box  of  precious  ointment  for  souls'  sores." 
"  A  Subpoena  of  the  Star  Chamber  of  Heaven,"  1623.  "A 
Funeral  Handkerchief,  to  which  are  added,  &c.,  1691." 
"A  Divine  Balance  to  weigh  religious  Fasts  in,   1643." 

N 


194  Lmvrence  Stei^ne. 


"  Leap  Year  Lectures :  a  collection  of  Discourses  de- 
livered on  the  29th  of  February  to  a  select  society; 
committed  to  the  press,  because  improper  for  the  Pulpit." 
London:  Bladon,  4to,  1777.  "The  Lancashire  Levite 
Rebuked,  a  discourse/'  &c.,  1699.  ''  A  Cluster  of  Grapes 
taken  out  of  the  Basket  of  the  Canaanitish  woman,"  1660. 
"  Matches  lighted  at  the  Divine  Fire."  "  The  Gun  of 
Penitence."  A  volume  containing  extracts,  among  others, 
from  the  sermons  of  the  fathers,  is  called,  "  The  Shop  of 
the  Spiritual  Apothecary."  Another  is  called,  "  Sixpenny- 
worth  of  the  Divine  Spirit."  But  what  shall  we  say  to  the 
following  %  "  Some  fine  Biscuits  baked  in  the  oven  of 
Charity,  carefully  conserved  for  the  Chickens  of  the 
Church,  the  Sparrows  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  sweet  Swallows 
of  Salvation." 

LAWRENCE  STERNE 

Being  once  in  company  with  three  or  four  clergymen, 
related  a  circumstance  which  happened  to  him  in  the 
city  of  York.  After  preaching  at  the  cathedral,  an  old 
woman,  whom  he  observed  sitting  on  the  stairs  of  the 
pulpit,  stopped  him  as  he  came  down  and  begged  to 
know  where  she  should  have  the  honour  of  hearing  him 
preach  on  the  next  Sunday.  Sterne  having  mentioned 
the  name  of  the  church,  found  her  seated  in  exactly  the 
same  manner  on  that  day,  when  she  put  the  same  ques- 
tion to  him  as  before.  The  following  Sunday  he  was  to 
preach  four  miles  out  of  York,  which  he  told  her  \  and  to 
his  great  surprise  he  found  her  there  too,  and  that  the 
same  question  was  put  to  him  as  he  came  down  from  the 
pulpit.  "On  which,"  he  added,  "I  took  for  my  text 
these  words,  expecting  to  find  my  old  woman  as  before, 


Sterne's  Sermon  on  Time  and  Chance.  195 

*I  will  grant  the  request  of  this  poor  widow,  lest  by 
her  often  coming,  she  weary  me/  "  One  of  the  company 
immediately  replied ;  "  Why,  Sterne,  you  omitted  the  most 
remarkable  part  of  the  passage,  which  is,  '  though  I 
neither  fear  God  nor  regard  man  ! ' " 

A  lady  once  attending  York  races,  met  with  the  strange 
and  eccentric  humorist.  He  rode  up  to  the  side  of  her 
coach,  and  accosted  her  with  the  words,  "  Well,  Madam, 
on  which  horse  do  you  bet  % "  "  Sir,"  she  replied,  "  if  you 
can  tell  me  which  is  the  worst  horse,  I  will  bet  upon 
that ! "  "  But  why.  Madam,"  asked  Sterne,  "  do  you 
make  so  altogether  strange  a  choice  % "  "  Because," 
replied  the  gentlewoman,  "you  know  that  the  race  is  not 
always  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong ! "  Sterne 
was  so  much  pleased  with  this  reply,  that  he  went  home 
and  wrote  from  that  text  his  well  known  sermon  on  time 

AND  CHANCE. 

Sterne's  sermons  abound  in  curious  surprises  and  start- 
ling antitheses :  for  instance,  that  one  in  Eccles.  vii.  2,  3  : — 

"  //  is  better  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning  than  to  the  house 
of f easting r 
"  That  I  de7ty  ; — but  let  us  hear  the  wise  man's  reasoning 
upon  it, — '  for  that  is  the  end  of  all  men,  and  the  living 
loill  lay  it  to  his  heart :  sorrow  is  better  than  laughter  : ' — 
for  a  crack-brain' d  order  of  Carthusian  monks,  I  grant,  but 
not  for  men  of  the  world.  For  what  purpose,  do  you  im- 
agine, has  God  made  usl  for  the  social  sweets  of  the  well- 
watered  valleys,  where  He  has  planted  us,  or  for  the  dry 
and  dismal  desert  of  a  Sierra  Morena  ?  Are  the  sad  acci- 
dents of  life,  and  the  uncheery  hours  which  perpetually 
overtake  us,  are  they  not  enough,  but  we  must  sally  forth 


196  Sterne  s  Character  of  Shimei. 


in  quest  of  them, — belie  our  own  hearts,  and  say,  as  your 
text  would  have  us,  that  they  are  better  than  those  of  joy  % 
Did  the  Best  of  Beings  send  us  into  the  world  for  this  end, 
— to  go  weeping  through  it, — to  vex  and  shorten  a  life 
short  and  vexations  enough  already  ?  Do  you  think,  my 
good  preacher,  that  He  who  is  infinitely  happy,  can  envy 
us  our  enjoyments'?  or  that  a  Being,  so  infinitely  kind, 
would  grudge  a  mournful  traveller  the  short  rest  and  re- 
freshments necessary  to  support  his  spirits  through  the 
stages  of  a  weary  pilgrimage  ?  or  that  he  would  call  him  to 
a  severe  reckoning,  because  in  his  way  he  had  hastily 
snatched  at  some  little  fugacious  pleasures,  merely  to 
sweeten  this  uneasy  journey  of  life,  and  reconcile  him  to 
the  ruggedness  of  the  road,  and  the  many  hard  jostlings 
he  is  sure  to  meet  with  % 

The  following  passage  is  equally  characteristic.  It  is 
extracted  from  his  sermon  on  Shimei  : — 

"  There  is  not  a  character  in  the  world  which  has  so 
had  an  influence  upon  the  affairs  of  it,  as  this  of  Shimei. 
Whilst  power  meets  with  honest  checks,  and  the  evils  of 
life  with  honest  refuge,  the  world  will  never  be  undone  : 
but  thou,  Shimei,  has  sapp'd  it  at  both  extremes  ;  for  thou 
corruptest  prosperity, — and  'tis  thou  who  hast  broken  the 
heart  of  poverty;  and,  so  long  as  worthless  spirits  can  be 
ambitious  ones,  'tis  a  character  we  shall  never  want.  O  ! 
it  infects  the  court,  the  camp,  the  cabinet ! — it  infects 
the  church  ! — go  where  you  will, — in  every  quarter,  in 
every  profession,  you  see  a  Shimei  following  the  wheels  of 
the  fortunate  through  thick  mire  and  clay  ! — 

** — Haste  Shimei ! — haste  or  thou  wilt  be  undone  for 
ever. — Shimei  girdeth  up  his  loins  and  speedeth  after  him. 
— Behold  the   hand  which  governs  everything, — takes  the 


William  ChiUingworth.  197 

wheels  from  off  his  chariot,  so  that  he  who  driveth,  driveth 
on  heavily. — Shimei  doubles  his  speed, — but  'tis  the  con- 
trary way;  he  flies  like  the  wind  over  a  sandy  desert,  and 
the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more  : — stay,  Shimei ! 
'tis  your  patron, — your  friend, — your  benefactor  ;  'tis  the 
man  who  has  raised  you  from  the  dunghill ! — 'Tis  all  one 
to  Shimei  :  Shimei  is' a  barometer  of  every  man's  fortune ; 
marks  the  rise  and  fall  of  it,  with  all  the  variations  from 
scorching  hot  to  freezing  cold  upon  his  countenance,  that 
the  smile  will  admit  of — Is  a  cloud  upon  thy  affairs  ? — 
see, — it  hangs  over  Shimei's  brow. — Hast  thou  been 
spoken  for  to  the  king  or  the  captain  of  the  host  without 
success  ? — Look  not  into  the  court-calendar ; — the  vacancy 
is  filled  up  in  Shimei's  face. — Art  thou  in  debt? — though 
not  to  Shimei, — no  matter ; — the  worst  officer  of  the  law 
shall  not  be  more  insolent.'* 


WILLIAM  CHILLINGWORTH 

Was  born  in  1602,  and  died  in  1644.  The  fame  of 
ChiUingworth,  as  an  author  and  controversialist,  is  world- 
wide. His  excellence,  says  Barlow,  consisted  in  "  his 
logic,  both  natural  and  acquired."  Lord  Mansfield  pro- 
nounced him  to  be  a  perfect  model  of  argumentation. 
Tillotson  calls  him  "  incomparable,  the  glory  of  his  age 
and  nation."  Locke  proposes  for  the  attainment  in  right 
reasoning,  the  constant  reading  of  ChiUingworth,  who,  by 
his  example,  "  will  teach  both  perspicuity  and  the  way  of 
right  reasoning  better  than  any  book  that  I  know."  His 
sermons  are  nine  in  number,  of  which  that  on  the  follow- 
ing text  is,  by  common  consent,  admitted  to  be  the 
masterpiece : — 


198  ChillingwortJi s  Masterpiece. 


The  fon7i  of  Godliness  without  its  power. 

**  This  know  also,  that  in  the  last  days  perilous  times  shall  come. 
For  men  shall  be  lovers  of  their  own  selves,  covetous,  boasters,  proud, 
blasphemers,  disobedient  to  parents,  unthankful,  unholy,  without 
natural  affection,  truce-breakers,  false  accusers,  incontinent,  fierce, 
despisers  of  those  that  are  good,  traitors,  heady,  high-minded,  lovers 
of  pleasures  more  than  lovers  of  God ;  having  a  form  of  godliness, 
but  denying  the  power  thereof." — 2  TiM.  iii.  I-5. 

"  To  a  discourse  upon  these  words,"  says  Chillingworth, 
"  I  cannot  think  of  any  fitter  introduction  than  that  where- 
with our  Saviour  sometime  began  a  sermon  of  his,  '  This 
day  is  the  Scripture  fulfilled.'  And  I  would  to  God  there 
were  not  great  occasion  to  fear  that  a  great  part  of  it  may 
be  fulfilled  in  this  place. 

"Two  things  are  contained  in  it  :  first,  The  real  wicked- 
ness of  the  generality  of  the  men  of  the  latter  times,  in 
the  first  four  verses.  For  by  ^  men  shall  be  lovers  of 
themselves,  covetous,  boasters,  proud,'  &c.,  I  conceive  is 
meant,  men  generally  shall  be  so  ;  otherwise  this  were 
nothing  peculiar  to  the  last,  but  common  to  all  times ;  for 
in  all  times,  some,  nay  many,  have  been  '  lovers  of  them- 
selves, covetous,  boasters,  proud,'  &c.  Secondly,  We  have 
here  the  formal  and  hypocritical  godliness  of  the  same 
times,  in  the  last  verse  :  '  Having  a  form  of  godUness,  but 
denying  the  power  thereof; '  which  latter  ordinarily  and 
naturally  accompanies  the  former.  For  as  the  shadows 
are  longest  when  the  sun  is  lowest,  and  as  vines  and  other 
fruit-trees  bear  the  less  fruit  when  they  are  suffered  to 
luxuriate  and  spend  their  sap  upon  superfluous  suckers,  and 
abundance  of  leaves ;  so,  commonly,  we  may  observe, 
both  in  civil  conversation,  where  there  is  great  store  of 
formality,  there  is  little  sincerity ;  and  in  religion,  where 


John  Bunyan.  199 


there  is  a  decay  of  true  cordial  piety,  there  men  entertain 
and  please  themselves,  and  vainly  hope  to  please  God, 
with  external  formalities  and  performances,  and  great  store 
of  that  righteousness  for  which  Christ  shall  judge  the 
world." 

JOHN  BUNYAN, 

The  "  Shakspeare  among  divines,"  as  he  has  been  often 
termed,  was  born  in  the  year  1628,  at  Elstow,  in  Bedford- 
shire, the  son  of  a  travelling  tinker.  In  his  youth  he  led 
a  wandering  and  dissipated  life ;  and  it  was  not  till 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  that  he  joined  a  dissenting 
Baptist  community  in  Bedford.  Three  years  subsequent, 
he  became  a  preacher ;  and  after  the  Restoration,  in 
common  with  many  others,  he  suffered  much  under  the 
reign  of  Charles  II.,  and  was  finally  thrown  into  Bedford 
jail,  where  he  was  immured  for  nearly  thirteen  years,  and 
where  he  wrote,  among  other  works,  "  The  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress." Upon  his  release  he  became  a  very  popular  preacher, 
attracting  immense  congregations,  whether  in  his  own 
meeting-house  at  Bedford  or  on  his  visits  to  London  and 
other  places.  After  sixty  years  of  unwearied  toil,  he 
ended  his  labours  Aug.  31,  1688,  and  went  up  to  sit  down 
with  the  shining  ones  of  the  celestial  city. 

"  The  excellent  and  learned  Dr  Owen,"  says  a  Non- 
conformist writer,  "  sometimes  heard  John  Bunyan  preach, 
and  never  exhibited  both  piety  and  tenderness  more  truly 
than  when  he  made  answer  to  king  Charles's  reproof  for 
going  to  hear  an  illiterate  tinker  prate,  *  Please  your 
majesty,  could  I  possess  that  tinker's  abilities  for  preaching, 
1 7vould  most  gladly  relinquish  all  my  learfiing.''  Owen  was 
right,  and  the  anecdote  is  exceedingly  to  his  credit,  for 


200  Good  Advice  to  the  Pulpits. 

Bunyan's  abilities  for  preaching,  Owen  well  knew,  resulted 
from  the  teachings  and  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  with- 
out which  all  human  learning,  even  in  God's  Word,  would 
be  vain ;  and,  moreover,  Bunyan's  abilities  for  preaching 
were  precisely  the  same  gifts  of  incomparable  genius  and 
piety  that  produced  '  The  Pilgrim's  Progress.' " 

Good  Advice  to  the  Pulpits. 

A  quaint  and  curious  volume,  entitled  "  Good  advice 
to  the  Pulpits,  deUvered  in  a  few  cautions  for  keeping  up 
the  reputation  of  those  chairs,  and  preserving  the  nation 
in  peace.  Pubhshed  with  allowance.  London,  1687," — 
was  intended  as  a  caution  to  the  preachers  of  that  age, 
who,  considering  the  political  dangers  of  the  times,  were 
sorely  tempted  to  preach  nothing  but  discourses  upon 
State  affairs.  The  writer  exhorts  them  to  beware  equally 
of  giving  currency  to  the  gossip  of  the  coffee-house  and 
other  clubs.  He  quotes,  among  many  others,  the  follow- 
ing passage,  as  proof  that  his  caution  was  needed.  Thus, 
the  Rev.  William  Orme,  preaching  at  Guildhall,  March 
27,  1681,  said — 

"  A  Jesuit  being  once  asked,  What  ways  and  means  the 
Papists  designed  to  take  for  the  introducing  their  religion 
into  England  ?  gave  this  reply  — '  We  intended  at  first 
to  do  it  by  persuading  and  convincing  the  people  with 
strength  of  reason  and  argument ;  but  because  these 
have  proved  so  often  vain,  therefore  of  late  years  we  have 
pitched  upon  two  new  methods  and  resolutions.  The 
one  is  to  debauch  and  vitiate  the  nobility  and  gentry,  and 
to  bring  them  off  by  degrees  from  all  sense  and  care  and 
kindness  for  religion ;  which  is  easily  to  be  done,  by  re- 
presenting to  them  a  sinful,  pleasurable  Hfe,  both  lawful 


Robert  Robinson  of  Cambridge,  201 

and  safe.  The  other  is  to  divide  the  commons  into 
several  sects.'  Now,  how  far  the  Papists  have  thriven  in 
these  designs  I  shall  leave  to  the  judgment  and  determina- 
tion of  every  sober  and  unprejudiced  hearer." 

ROBERT    ROBINSON, 

Of  Cambridge — the  predecessor  of  Robert  Hall — of  whom 
the  latter  said  "that  he  had  a  musical  voice,  and  was 
master  of  all  its  intonations ;  he  had  wonderful  self-posses- 
sion, and  could  say  what  he  pleased,  ivhen  he  pleased, 
and  how  he  pleased  " — was  born  at  Swaffham,  in  Norfolk, 
October  8,  1735.  He  was  unsound  in  the  faith,  but  re- 
markable for  his  clearness  and  strength  as  a  preacher. 
His  varied  and  chequered  career  was  full  of  interest,  and 
the  story  of  his  life  will  well  repay  perusal.  The  follow- 
ing are  fair  samples  of  his  preaching  : — 

"  Skin  for  skiji,  yea,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give 

for  his  life." 
"  Imagine  one  of  these  primitive  fairs.  A  multitude  of 
people,  from  all  parts,  of  different  tribes  and  languages,  in 
a  broad  field,  all  overspread  with  various  comm>odities  to 
be  exchanged.  Imagine  this  fair  to  be  held  after  a  good 
hunting  season,  and  a  bad  harvest.  The  skinners  are 
numerous,  and  clothing  cheap.  Wheat,  the  staff  of  life, 
is  scarce,  and  the  whole  fair  dread  a  famine.  How  many 
skins  this  year  will  a  man  give  for  this  necessary  article, 
without  which  he  and  his  family  must  inevitably  die  % 
Why,  each  would  add  to  the  heap,  and  put  skin  upon  ski?i, 
for  all  the  skins  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life. 
Imagine  the  wheat-growers,  of  which  Job  was  one,  carry- 
ing  home   the  skins  which   they  had   taken  for  wheat. 


202  Anecdote  of  RoUnson. 


Imagine  the  party  engaged  to  protect  them  raising  the 
tribute,  and  threatening  if  it  were  not  paid  to  put  them  to 
death.  What  proportion  of  skins  would  these  merchants 
give  in  this  case  of  necessity]  Ski7i  upon  skin,  all  the 
skins  that  they  have  will  they  give  for  their  lives.  The 
proverb  then  means,  that  we  should  save  our  lives  at  any 
price.     Let  us  apply  it  to  ourselves." 

The  following  anecdote  is  characteristic  of  the  satirical 
humour  of  the  man,  and  the  temper  of  the  University 
students  at  the  time  when  he  preached  at  Cambridge  : — 

"  One  hot  summer's  day,  when  he  was  nearly  in  the 
middle  of  his  sermon,  a  clergyman  fifty  or  sixty  years  of 
age  entered.  Pew  doors  were  thrown  open  in  vain.  He 
walked  to  the  table-pew,  took  his  seat,  and  began  quizzing, 
and  so  disturbing  the  congregation,  to  the  great  annoyance 
of  the  ladies.  Robinson's  spirit  was  stirred  within  him. 
Having  paused  long  enough  to  regain  thoroughly  the 
diverted  attention  of  the  audience,  he  proceeded  thus  : 
'  I  was  speaking  about  complex  and  simple  ideas,  but  as 
few  are  acquainted  with  logical  terms,  I  will  give  an  illus- 
tration or  two.  If,  walking  in  the  vicinity  of  the  India 
House,  I  were  to  meet  a  person  wearing  powder,  and 
silver  buckles,  and  carrying  a  gold-headed  cane,  I  should 
have  the  complex  idea  of  a  wealthy  merchant.  This 
would  be  made  up  of  a  number  of  simple  ideas ;'  and  the 
peculiarities  of  a  successful  merchant  were  enumerated. 
*  Again,  suppose  I  walk  in  Pall  Mall,  I  might  there  meet 
some  one  wearing  a  cocked  hat,  a  red  coat,  gold  epau- 
lettes, &c.,  and  I  should  have  the  complex  idea  of  an 
officer  of  high  rank  in  the  army.  This,  as  in  the  former 
case,  includes  a  number  of  simple  ideas.  Once  more  :  If 
I  were  walking  near  St  Paul's,  I  might  see  a  portly  gentle- 


His  Power  of  Rebuke.  203 

man,  in  a  shovel  hat,  full-bottomed  wig,  black  coat,  black 
silk  stockings,  silver  biickes,' — describing  the  dress  before 
him, — 'and  I  should  have  the  complex  idea  of  a  venerable 
dignitary  of  the  Church  of  England.  As  in  the  former 
cases,  this  complex  idea  would  include  many  simple  ideas, 
the  gentleman,  the  scholar,  the  divine  ;'  and  then  followed 
an  eloquent  description  of  the  good  minister  of  Jesus 
Christ.  '  But,  my  friends,  you  may  have  forgotten  the 
text.  I  will  repeat  it.  **  Judge  not  according  to  outward 
appearance,  but  judge  righteous  judgment." '  Fixing  his 
keen  eye  on  the  stranger  in  the  table-pew,  he  began  to 
reverse  the  picture,  and  describe  impertinence  and  folly  in 
a  black  dress.     The  intruder  vanished  in  haste." 

Robinson  had  a  singular  aptitude  both  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  reproof  and  the  conveyance  of  instruction.  His 
congregation  in  Cambridge  having  been  frequently  dis- 
turbed by  junior  members  of  the  University,  he  observed 
one  day,  when  officiating  in  his  chapel,  some  of  these 
young  gentlemen  present,  and,  as  usual,  bent  upon  mis- 
chief; and  stated  in  his  sermon  that  it  had  long  been  a 
disputed  question  among  philosophers,  "  whether  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  a  vacuum  in  nature;"  but  that  the  diffi- 
culty is  now  solved,  it  having  been  ascertained  that  there 
is  a  vacuum  in  the  head  of  every  undergraduate  who  dis- 
turbs a  worshipping  assembly  in  a  Dissenting  meeting- 
house. 

Addressing  a  congregation  of  labourers  in  a  country- 
village,  and  observing  that  a  word  sometimes  has  several 
meanings,  he  gave  them  the  following  illustration : — 
"  A  sharp  man,  with  a  sharp  scythe,  on  a  sharp  morn- 
ing, mowed  an  acre  of  grass  before  breakfast,  which  was 
sharp  work;"  calling  upon  them  to  ascertain  the  meaning 


204  Robhison's  Suppose  t 

of  the  word  sharp  in  every  instance  of  its  application  in 
this  sentence. 

Suppose ! 

"  Before  I  read  my  text,  give  me  leave  to  open  my  heart 
to  you.  As  I  was  coming  hither  this  evening,  and  medi- 
tating on  my  text,  I  thought,  suppose — instead  of  going 
alone  into  the  assembly  this  evening,  as  I  shall — suppose 
it  were  possible  for  me  to  have  the  honour  of  leading  by 
the  hand,  through  this  numerous  congregation,  up  to  the 
place  of  speaking,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  His  own  per- 
son, '  the  first-born  of  every  creature ;  the  image  of  the 
invisible  God.'  Suppose  I  should  then  open  the  twenty- 
second  chapter  of  Matthew,  and,  with  a  clear  and  distinct 
voice,  summon  each  of  my  hearers  to  give  an  answer  to 
the  questions  in  the  forty-second  verse  :  '  What  think  ye 
of  Christ .?  whose  Son  is  He  1 '  Affection  for  you  set  me 
a-thinking  further  on  such  answers  as  the  most  strict 
attention  to  truth  would  compel  you  to  give.  I  thought, 
suppose  one  should  say,  '  I  have  never  thought  about 
Christ ;  I  never  intend  to  think  about  Him.'  Suppose  a 
second  should  say,  '  I  have  never  thought  of  Him,  and  I 
despise  Him,  because  He  is  not  a  minister  of  si?i.''  And 
suppose  a  third  should  say,  ^  I  hate  Him  ;  and  as  it  is  not 
in  my  power  to  persecute  Him,  I  express  my  hatred  of 
Him  by  ridicuHng  and  tormenting  all  who  respect  and 
resemble  Him.' 

"  My  brethren,  it  is  not  for  me  to  pretend  to  know  your 
hearts,  or  to  pronounce  anything  uncertain ;  but  the  bare 
apprehension  of  such  dispositions  excited  in  me,  as  it  must 
in  every  one  that  loves  his  neighbour  as  himself,  a  thou- 
sand suspicions  and  fears. 

*'  Dreading  such  answers  as  these,  I  thought  again,  What 


Hem-y  Venn.  205 


if  I  should  bend  my  knee  to  the  insulted  Friend  of  sinners, 
and  humbly  ask,  '  O,  Son  of  David  !  what  think  you  of 
this  people  %  whose  children  are  they  ? '  Alas  !  I  thought 
I  saw  Him  ^  look  round  about  on  you  with  anger,  being 
grieved  for  the  hardness  of  your  hearts;'  then  turning 
about,  melting  with  compassion,  going  down  the  steps, 
walking  slowly  out  of  the  assembly,  and  all  the  way  weep- 
ing and  saying,  '  O  that  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,' 
the  most  inveterate  of  this  congregation,  'at  least  in  this 
thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  to  thy  peace !  but  now 
they  are  hid  from  thine  eyes.' " — R.  Robinson. 

THE  REVEREND   HENRY  VENN, 

An  eminent  Evangelical  minister  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, the  contemporary  of  Cecil,  Newton,  and  Simeon, 
has  the  following  suggestive  remarks  on  the  choice  of  a 
text : — "  I  am  persuaded,"  he  observes,  "  that  we  are  very 
negligent  in  respect  of  our  texts.  Some  of  the  most 
weighty  and  striking  are  never  brought  before  the  people ; 
yet  these  are  the  texts  which  speak  for  themselves.  You 
no  sooner  repeat  them,  than  you  appear  in  your  high  and 
holy  character,  as  a  messenger  of  the  Lord  of  hosts. 
Within  these  few  weeks  I  have  found  it  so.  In  London 
I  preached  on,  '  Thus  saith  the  Lord  :  Cursed  be  the 
man  that  trusteth  in  man,  and  maketh  flesh  his  arm,  and 
whose  heart  departeth  from  the  Lord.  For  he  shall  be  like 
the  heath  In  the  desert,  and  shall  not  see  when  good 
cometh,  but  shall  inhabit  the  parched  places  in  the  wilder- 
ness, in  a  salt  land  and  not  inhabited.  Blessed  is  the 
man  that  trusteth  in  the  Lord,  and  whose  hope  the  Lord 
is.  For  he  shall  be  as  a  tree  planted  by  the  waters,  and 
that  spreadeth  out  her  roots  by  the  river,  and  shall  not 


2o6  Religious  Indifference  Rebuked. 

see  when  heat  cometh,  but  her  leaf  shall  be  green ;  and 
shall  not  be  careful  in  the  year  of  drought,  neither  shall 
cease  from  yielding  fruit/  (Jer.  xvii.  5-8.)  I  con- 
trasted the  character  described  in  the  first  verse,  with  the 
child  of  God  in  the  latter.  The  very  reading  of  my  text 
fixed  the  attention,  and  raised,  as  I  could  see,  the  expecta- 
tion of  the  hearers ;  and  much  affected  they  seemed  to  be. 
Last  Sunday  I  saw  the  same  impression  from,  '  And  the 
Lord  descended  in  the  cloud,  and  stood  with  him  there, 
and  proclaimed  the  name  of  the  Lord.  And  the  Lord 
passed  by  before  him,  and  proclaimed  the  name  of  the 
Lord.  And  the  Lord  passed  by  before  him,  and  pro- 
claimed. The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious, 
long-suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth,' 
(Exod.  xxxiv.  5,  6,)  on  which  I  am  to  preach  again,  God 
willing,  next  Lord's  day.  I  feel  the  good  of  selecting 
these  passages  to  my  own  soul.  I  have  to  lament  and 
bewail  my  ignorance  and  great  defects  for  so  many  years, 
one-thousandth  part  of  which  I  do  not  yet  perceive.  I 
wish  you  may  attend  to  this  point,  and  be  led  to  make 
the  chief  and  vital  parts,  as  they  may  be  called,  of  Scrip- 
ture, your  subjects  of  discourses." 

Religious  Indiffei'ence  Rebuked. 
A  celebrated  preacher  of  the  seventeenth  century,  in  a 
sermon  to  a  crowded  audience,  described  the  terrors  of 
the  last  judgment  with  such  eloquence,  pathos,  and  force 
of  action,  that  some  of  his  audience  not  only  burst  into 
tears,  but  sent  forth  piercing  cries,  as  if  the  Judge  himself 
had  been  present,  and  was  about  to  pass  upon  them  their 
final  sentence.  In  the  height  of  this  commotion,  the 
preacher  called  upon  them  to  dry  their  tears  and  cease 


Anthony  Farindon,  207 

their  cries,  as  he  was  about  to  add  something  still  more 
awful  and  astonishing  than  anything  he  had  yet  brought 
before  them.  Silence  being  obtained,  he,  with  an  agitated 
and  solemn  countenance,  addressed  them  thus  :  "  In  one 
quarter  of  an  hour  from  this  time,  the  emotions  which  you 
have  just  now  exhibited  will  be  stifled ;  the  remembrance 
of  the  fearful  truths  which  excited  them  will  vanish ;  you 
will  return  to  your  carnal  occupations,  or  sinful  pleasures, 
with  your  usual  avidity,  and  you  will  treat  all  you  have 
heard  '  as  a  tale  that  is  told  ! ' " 

ANTHONY  FARINDON, 

One  of  the  most  accompHshed  divines  and  eloquent 
preachers  of  the  seventeenth  century — an  age,  not  of  in- 
tellectual indolence  and  stupor,  but  of  profound  genius 
and  industry — was  born  at  Sonning,  in  Berkshire,  in  1596. 
Early  in  life  he  became  conspicuous  as  an  orator.  He 
suffered  much  from  the  troubles  of  the  great  rebellion. 
An  excellent  hfe  of  him  has  been  lately  prefixed  to  a  new 
edition  of  his  sermons,  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Jackson.  He 
died  October  9,  1658.  All  his  contemporaries  speak  of 
him  as  a  most  famous  preacher.  The  following  brief  ex- 
tracts exhibit  the  philanthropic  views  which  he  enter- 
tained concerning  the  welfare  of  the  whole  human  family, 
and  the  paramount  duties  which  one  Christian  man  owes 
to  another,  and  to  the  sinners  with  whom  he  is  sur- 
rounded : — 

"  As  therefore  every  bishop  in  the  former  ages  called 
himself  ^^V<r^///'//^  catholiccB  eccksi(E,  '  a  bishop  of  the  Catho- 
lic Church,'  although  he  had  jurisdiction  but  over  one 
diocese,  so  the  care  and  piety  of  every  particular  Chris- 
tian, in  respect  of  its  diffusive  operation,  is  as  catholic  as 


2o8  Style  of  Anthony  Farindon. 

the  church.  Every  soul  he  meeteth  with  is  under  his 
charge,  and  he  is  the  care  of  every  soul.  '  In  saving  a 
soul  from  death/  every  man  is  a  priest  and  a  bishop, 
although  he  may  neither  invade  the  pulpit  nor  ascend  the 
chair,  (James  v.  20.)  '  I  may  be  eyes  unto  him,'  as  it  was 
said  of  Hobab,  (Num.  x.  31.)  I  may  take  him  from  his 
error,  and  put  him  into  the  way  of  truth.  If  he  fear,  I 
may  scatter  his  fear ;  if  he  grieve,  I  may  wipe  off  his  tears ; 
if  he  presume,  I  may  teach  him  to  fear ;  and  if  he  despair, 
I  may  lift  him  up  to  a  hvely  hope,  that  neither  fear  nor 
grief,  neither  presumption  nor  despair,  swallow  him  up. 
Thus  may  I  raise  a  dead  man  from  the  grave,  a  sinner 
from  his  sin ;  and  by  that  example  many  may  rise  with 
him  who  are  dead  as  he ;  and  so  by  this  friendly  com- 
munication we  may  transfuse  ourselves  into  others,  and 
receive  others  into  ourselves,  and  so  run  hand  in  hand  from 
the  chambers  of  death." 

"  '  For  as  the  grace  which  bringeth  salvation  hath  ap- 
peared to  all  men,'  (Titus  ii.  11,  12,)  so  must  our  charity 
enlarge  itself,  and,  like  the  sun,  non  uni  aut  alter i,  sed  statim 
omnibus  in  commune  prof  err  i,  '  display  its  beams  universally 
on  all,  on  every  man  that  is  a  brother  and  a  neighbour  j  * 
and  now  under  the  gospel  every  man  is  so.  He  is  my 
neighbour  and  brother  ivho  loveth  me,  and  he  is  my  neigh- 
bour and  brother  who  hateth  me.  He  is  my  neighbour 
who  bindeth  up  my  wounds,  and  he  is  my  neighbour  who 
gave  me  those  wounds.  He  is  my  neighbour  who  taketh 
care  of  me,  and  he  is  my  nighbour  who  passeth  by  me  on 
the  other  side,  (Luke  x.  30-37.)  And  my  goodness  must 
open  and  manifest  itself  to  all  men :  must  be  as  catholic 
as  the  church,  nay,  as  the  world  itself  Whosoever  maketh 
himself  our  debtor,  maketh  himself  also  the  object  of  our 


Style  of  Anthony  larmdon.  209 

mercy ;  and  whatsoever  the  debt  is,  forgiveness  must  wipe 
it  out  and  cancel  it." 

*'  In  Christ  they  are  called  to  the  same  faith,  baptized 
in  the  same  laver,  led  by  the  same  rule,  filled  with  the 
same  grace,  sealed  with  the  same  seal,  ransomed  with  the 
same  price,  comforted  with  the  same  glorious  promises, 
and  shall  be  crowned  with  the  same  glory.  And  being 
one  in  these,  they  are  to  be  as  one  in  all  duties  and  offices 
which  are  required  to  the  perfect  accomplishment  of  these. 
They  must  join  hand  in  hand  to  uphold  one  another  on 
earth,  and  to  advance  one  another  to  that  glory  which  is 
prepared  for  one  as  well  as  for  another  in  heaven.  Now 
this  union,  though  the  eye  of  flesh  cannot  behold  it,  yet 
it  must  appear  and  shine  and  be  resplendent  in  those 
duties  and  offices  which  must  attend  it.  As  the  head  in- 
fuseth  life  and  vigour  into  the  whole  body,  so  must  the 
members  also  anoint  each  other  with  this  oil  of  gladness. 
Each  member  must  be  busy  and  industrious  to  express 
that  virtue  without  which  it  cannot  be  so.  Thy  charity 
must  be  active  in  thy  hands,  in  casting  thy  bread  upon  the 
waters,  (Eccles.  xi.  i ;)  vocal  in  thy  tongue,  in  ministering 
a  word  of  comfort  in  due  season  ;  compassionate  in  thy 
heart,  leading  thee  to  the  house  of  mourning,  and  making 
thee  mourn  with  them  that  mourn,  and  lament  with  them 
that  lament.  It  must  be  like  the  sun  which  casts  its  beams 
and  influence  on  every  man. 

"  Each  member  is  lame  and  imperfect  by  itself,  and 
stands  in  need  of  this  uniting.  What  the  hand  is,  that  is 
the  foot  j  and  what  the  eye  is,  that  is  the  hand,  in  that  re- 
spect it  is  a  member :  for  all  are  members.  St  Paul  in 
the  pulpit  was  no  more  a  member  than  the  Thessalonians 
to  whom  he  writ.     He  that  is  a  perfect  man  is  no  more  a 

o 


2IO  Farindon^s  Character. 

member  than  he  that  is  a  new-born  babe  in  Christ  :  and 
he  that  is  least  holds  his  relation  as  well  as  he  that  is 
greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Now,  if  all  be  members 
of  the  same  body,  each  must  concur  to  cherish  each 
other,  that  the  whole  may  be  preserved.  Take  but  an 
arm  from  the  body,  but  a  hand  from  that  arm,  but  a  finger 
from  that  hand,  and  the  blemish  is  of  the  whole.  In  the 
church  of  Christ,  communis  metus^  gandhun,  timor :  Here 
we  are  all  one,  and  'all  men's  joys  and  sorrows  and  fears 
are  one  and  the  same.^  As  each  man,  (as  I  told  you  be- 
fore,) so  each  Christian,  is  as  a  glass  to  another ;  and  they 
are  mutually  so.  I  see  my  sorrow  in  my  brother's  tears, 
and  he  sees  his  tears  in  my  sorrow :  he  sees  my  charity  in 
my  alms,  and  I  see  his  devotion  in  his  prayers :  I  fcast  a 
beam  of  comfort  upon  him,  and  he  reflects  a  blessing  upon 


The  Introduction  of  Greek  and  Latiit  Quotations  into  Ser- 
mons, a  practice  co?idemned  by  the  Westminster  Asseinl)ly 
— Fai'indon^s  Theological  and  Personal  Character* 
During  the  reign  of  James  I.,  a  sort  of  learned  pedantry 
was  introduced  into  the  English  pulpit,  and  soon  became 
fashionable.  Men  who  aspired  to  eminence  as  preachers, 
and  to  the  reputation  of  learning,  brought  into  their  ser- 
mons not  only  a  multiplicity  of  divisions  and  terms  of  art, 
but  also  a  profusion  of  Greek  and  Latin  quotations,  partly 
from  the  Heathen  moralists,  and  partly  from  the  fathers 
of  the  Church.  A  few  of  them  were  doubtless  able  to  do 
this  from  memory;  but  the  probability  is,  that  others 
accustomed  themselves  to  the  reading  of  those  ancient 
authors  for  the  express  purpose  of  selecting  from  them 
pithy  sentences  and  half-sentences,  as  the  ornaments  of 


Afithony  Farindon.  211 


their  public  discourses.  To  such  an  extent  was  this  prac- 
tice carried,  that  some  of  the  sermons  which  were  preached 
at  that  period  may  be  almost  said  to  be  written  in  three 
languages — English,  Greek,  and  Latin ;  devout  and  sen- 
sible men  conforming  to  the  custom,  simply  because  it  had 
become  the  law  of  the  caste  to  which  they  belonged :  just 
as  many  otherwise  upright  men  have  violated  their  con- 
sciences and  good  sense  by  submitting  to  what  are  popu- 
larly called  "  the  laws  of  honour." 

Anthony  Farindon,  of  course,  fell  into  this  practice, 
which  was  not  generally  abandoned  by  the  Episcopal 
clergy  till  the  following  age,  when  Tillotson,  Barrow, 
South,  Scott,  and  Sharpe  superseded  it  by  their  own 
example.  Yet  it  may  be  fairly  doubted  whether  any 
man,  from  the  reign  of  James  I.,  when  the  custom  was 
generally  introduced,  to  that  of  Charles  II.,  when  it  was 
as  generally  discontinued,  ever  succeeded  in  it  better  than 
Anthony  Farindon.  The  learned  quotations  which  he 
has  embodied  in  his  sermons  are  often  so  beautiful  in 
themselves,  and  are  so  appropriately  introduced,  that  few 
modern  readers,  it  is  presumed,  would  wish  to  see  them 
expunged.  His  method  of  citing  ancient  authors  will 
teach  theological  students  "  the  right  use  of  the  fathers  " 
as  well  as  of  the  classics.  Unlike  a  great  portion  of  our 
old  divines,  he  employs  them  only  as  his  servants,  not  as 
his  masters.  Whenever  he  is  wishful  to  use  a  stronger 
expression  than  usual  in  the  enunciation  of  his  sentiments, 
if  a  phrase  from  one  of  those  master-minds,  which  may 
answer  his  purpose,  be  brought  to  his  recollection,  he 
instantly  enlists  it  into  his  service,  and  gives  it  in  the 
emphatic  language  of  the  original,  with  a  forcible  English 
translation  as  its  accompaniment.      Among  the  fathers, 


212  Anthony  Fanndon. 


Tertullian  was  his  chief  favourite,  on  account  of  his  frank- 
ness and  terseness  ;  and  Nazianzen,  Hilary,  and  Augustine 
held  the  next  place  in  his  affections.  But  his  reading  was 
vastly  excursive,  embracing  the  entire  range  of  human 
knowledge ;  and  his  discourses  display  the  result — in  the 
immense  compass  of  varied  erudition  which  they  embody, 
and  which  he  had  the  rare  art  of  rendering  perfectly  easy 
of  comprehension  to  men  of  ordinary  capacities. 

But  though  Farindon  avoided  the  chief  blemishes  of  this 
practice,  yet  such  a  mode  of  addressing  mixed  assemblies 
in  the  name  of  God,  and  on  subjects  which  affect  their 
everlasting  destiny,  is  not  to  be  commended.  It  is  not  in 
good  taste  :  for  a  Christian  preacher  is  supposed  to  be  so 
impressed  with  the  truth  and  importance  of  his  message, 
and  so  concerned  for  the  salvation  of  his  hearers,  as  to 
have  no  time  to  tax  his  memory,  for  the  purpose  of  recall- 
ing corresponding  thoughts  and  expressions  in  languages 
with  which  his  hearers  are  not  familiar.  Nor  has  the 
practice  any  tendency  to  the  use  of  edifying;  for  what 
possible  benefit  can  a  popular  assembly  derive  from  sen- 
tences which  they  do  not  understand  %  Many  of  our  old 
English  divines,  in  the  true  spirit  of  their  own  Articles  and 
incomparable  Liturgy,  vehemently  censured  the  Church  of 
Rome  for  praying  in  an  unknown  tongue  ;  and  yet  it  never 
seems  to  have  occurred  to  them,  that  in  the  delivery  of 
God's  word  they  violated  their  own  principles  by  a  partial 
use  of  languages  of  which  only  a  few  favoured  persons 
among  their  hearers  had  any  knowledge. 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  that  the  Westminster  As- 
sembly of  Divines,  who  acted  under  the  sanction  of  the 
Long  Parliament,  in  their  "  Directory  for  Public  Worship," 
which  they  published  in  the  year  1644,  condemned  this 


Ani/iony  Farindon. 


vicious  pedantry,  as  being  incompatible  with  that  sim- 
plicity of  purpose  which  the  evangelical  ministry  requires. 
They  suggest  that  the  preacher  of  Christ's  gospel  should 
"perform  his  whole  ministry  plainly,  that  the  meanest 
man  may  understand  ;  delivering  the  truth  not  in  entic- 
ing words  of  man's  wisdom,  but  in  demonstration  of  the 
Spirit  and  of  power,  lest  the  cross  of  Christ  should  be 
made  of  none  effect ;  abstaining  also  from  an  unprofitable 
use  of  unknown  tongues,  strange  phrases,  and  cadences  of 
sounds  and  words  ;  sparing  citing  sentences  of  ecclesias- 
tical and  other  human  writers,  ancient  or  modern,  be  they 
never  so  elegant."  Considering  the  spirit  of  party  which 
then  prevailed,  and  the  quarter  from  which  this  advice 
came,  it  might  be  expected  that  the  Episcopal  clergy  would 
not  immediately  change  this  learned  mode  of  addressing 
their  congregations.  Nor  was  it  quickly  adopted  by  their 
own  brethren,  the  English  Presbyterians,  as  may  be  seen 
in  the  "  Morning  Exercises  ; "  some  of  the  sermons  in 
which  have  as  many  Greek  and  Latin  quotations  as  those 
of  their  Episcopal  contemporaries.  Yet  the  recommenda- 
tion of  the  "  Directory,"  being  dictated  by  sound  sense  and 
Christian  piety,  after  having  been  long  neglected,  is  now 
generally  acknowledged  to  be  the  more  excellent  way,  even 
by  the  most  learned  preachers,  when  they  address  audi- 
tories as  learned  as  themselves.  The  most  accomplished 
college  and  university  preacher  in  these  times  would  be 
unable  to  preserve  his  own  gravity,  either  in  the  composi- 
tion or  the  delivery  of  his  sermon,  if,  after  selecting  a  text 
from  St  Paul,  he  were  required  to  support  both  his  doc- 
trine and  phraseology  by  citations  from  the  whole  train  of 
Greek  and  Roman  moralists,  poets,  and  historians,  and 
from  the  principal  fathers,  both  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 


214  A?itho7iy  Farifidon. 

churches.  Yet  in  certain  quarters,  two  hundred  years  ago, 
unless  something  of  this  kind  were  attempted,  a  pulpit 
orator  would  have  felt  that  he  had  scarcely  maintained  the 
proper  dignity  of  his  order,  or  presented  a  sufficient  dis- 
play of  his  own  acquirements. 

Farindon  had  many  requisites  of  a  good  preacher ;  and 
when  we  read  his  discourses,  recollecting  at  the  same  time 
that  two-thirds  of  them  are  posthumous,  not  having  been 
written  for  the  press,  but  published  just  as  they  were  de- 
livered, we  can  easily  account  for  the  esteem  in  which  he 
was  held  by  his  congregation.  His  mind  was  richly  stored 
with  the  treasures  of  both  ancient  and  modern  learning ; 
and  his  correct  judgment  quahfied  him  so  to  apply  it  as  to 
insure  the  full  benefit  of  it  to  his  readers.  He  had  a 
readiness  and  force  of  expression,  in  which  few  men  have 
excelled  him ;  and  great  richness  and  power  of  imagination, 
enabling  him  to  embelhsh  any  subject,  and  represent  it  to 
the  best  advantage.  He  was  a  man  of  ready  wit ;  and 
possessed  an  admirable  insight  into  the  vast  variety  of 
human  character, — a  faculty  of  incomparable  service  to  a 
Christian  philosopher  engaged  in  the  momentous  duty  of 
instructing  mankind  respecting  the  divine  method  of  sal- 
vation devised  by  Infinite  Wisdom,  which,  when  accepted 
by  the  penitent,  alters  the  natural  tendencies  of  their  spirits, 
and  exerts  the  most  benign  influence  on  the  final  destiny 
of  themselves  and  others.  He  had  a  manly  firmness  of 
mind,  attempered  by  gentleness,  kindness,  and  generosity ; 
so  that  he  did  not  shrink  from  the  task  of  exposing  mis- 
chievous error,  by  whomsoever  it  was  advanced  and 
patronised,  yet  with  a  just  decorum  both  of  spirit  and 
manner.  He  was  famiUar  with  his  Bible,  and  understood 
theology  as  a  science  ;   and  was  evidently  addicted  to 


AntJiony  Far  in  don.  215 


prayer,  which  sanctified  his  studies,  and  gave  a  holy  unction 
to  his  expostulations  and  appeals  to  the  conscience  ;  his 
spirit  having  been  disciplined  and  softened  by  disappoint- 
ment, persecution,  and  sorrow.  His  sermons  are  free  from 
that  multiplicity  of  artificial  divisions  which  disfigured  the 
pulpit  discourses  of  many  of  his  contemporaries,  and  per- 
plexed their  hearers  and  readers.  In  this  respect  they  are 
models  of  simplicity,  and  of  the  manner  in  which  popular 
instruction  should  be  imparted.  In  regard  of  their  general 
tone  and  cast  of  thought,  they  reflect  as  in  a  mirror  a  per- 
fect image  of  Christianity  as  it  was  tauglu  and  practised 
in  the  early  Church,  but  without  the  errors  which  many 
even  of  the  most  eminent  fathers  mixed  with  evangelical 
truth.  To  the  leading  dogmas  of  Popery  he  was  decidedly 
opposed  ;  and  in  the  course  of  his  ministry  he  bore  a 
strong  and  persevering  testimony  against  them,  as  a  sinful 
and  dangerous  departure  from  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  and 
of  His  inspired  apostles.  On  this  subject  his  testimony  is 
the  more  valuable,  because  of  his  intimate  acquaintance 
with  ecclesiastical  antiquity,  which  enabled  him  from  his 
own  knowledge  to  denounce  the  peculiarities  of  Rome  as 
pernicious  novelties  and  errors. 

The  imagery  of  Farindon's  sermons  is  eminently  beauti- 
ful, original,  and  varied,  equal  to  that  which  characterises 
the  compositions  of  any  writer  who  was  his  contemporary, 
except,  perhaps,  those  of  Milton  and  Jeremy  Taylor.  He 
had,  however,  no  sympathy  with  the  bitter  sarcasm  of 
Milton's  prose  writings  ;  and  if  his  sermons  do  not  rival 
the  occasional  gorgeousness  and  splendour  of  Taylor,  they 
excel  them  in  their  general  elevation  of  thought  and  uni- 
form clearness  of  diction,  as  well  as  in  their  superior  doc- 
trinal purity.     In  these  qualities  they  very  far  surpass  the 


2i6  Bernard  Gilpin. 


unimaginative  discourses  of  his  contemporaries,  —  An- 
drewes,  Brownrigg,  and  Sanderson.  Numberless  passages 
occur  in  the  sermons  of  Farindon  which  might  be  cited 
as  specimens  of  a  true,  powerful,  and  well-sustained  elo- 
quence j  the  sentiments  being  impressive,  the  illustrations 
elegant  and  appropriate,  and  the  phraseology  terse,  ner- 
vous, and  stirring. 

BERNARD  GILPIN. 

The  great  northern  apostle,  Bernard  Gilpin,  who  refused 
a  bishopric,  did  not  confine  his  Christian  labours  to  the 
church  of  Houghton,  of  which  he  was  minister,  but  at 
his  own  expense  visited  the  then  desolate  churches  of 
Northumberland  once  every  year  to  preach  the  gospel. 
Once  when  he  was  setting  out  on  his  annual  visitation, 
Barnes,  Bishop  of  Durham,  summoned  him  to  preach  be- 
fore him  ;  but  he  excused  himself,  and  went  on  his  mis- 
sion. On  his  return  he  found  himself  suspended  from  all 
ecclesiastical  employments  for  contempt.  The  Bishop 
afterwards  sent  for  him  suddenly,  and  commanded  him  to 
preach ;  but  he  pleaded  his  suspension,  which,  however, 
the  Bishop  immediately  took  off.  Gilpin  then  went  into 
the  pulpit,  and  selected  for  his  subject  the  important 
charge  of  a  Christian  bishop.  Having  exposed  the  cor- 
ruption of  the  clergy,  he  boldly  addressed  himself  to  his 
lordship,  who  was  present.  "  Let  not  your  lordship,"  said 
he,  "  say  these  crimes  have  been  committed  without  your 
knowledge ;  for  whatsoever  you  yourself  do  in  person,  or 
suffer  through  your  connivance  to  be  done  by  others,  is 
wholly  your  own ;  therefore,  in  the  presence  of  God, 
angels,  and  men,  I  pronounce  your  fatherhood  to  be  the 
author  of  all  these  evils ;  and  I,  and  this  whole  congrega-- 


Bernard  Gilpin,  217 


tion,  will  be  a  witness  in  the  day  of  judgment  that  these 
things  have  come  to  your  ears."  It  was  expected  that  the 
Bishop  would  have  resented  this  boldness ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  he  thanked  Mr  Gilpin  for  his  faithful  reproof, 
and  suffered  him  to  go  his  annual  visitations  in  future 
without  molestation. 

About  this  period  the  Northumbrians  retained  so  much 
of  the  custom  of  our  Saxon  ancestors  as  to  decide  every 
dispute  by  the  sword  :  they  even  went  beyond  them  ;  and 
not  content  with  a  duel,  each  contending  party  used  to 
muster  what  adherents  he  could,  and  commenced  a  kind 
of  petty  war,  so  that  a  private  grudge  would  often  occa- 
sion much  bloodshed. 

In  one  of  Mr  Gilpin's  annual  visitations  there  was  a 
quarrel  of  this  kind  at  Rothbury.  During  the  first  two  or 
three  days  of  his  preaching  the  contending  parties  ob- 
served some  decorum,  and  never  appeared  at  church  to- 
gether. At  length,  however,  they  met.  One  party  had 
been  early  to  church,  and  just  as  Mr  Gilpin  began  his 
sermon,  the  other  entered.  They  did  not  stand  long 
quiet,  but,  mutually  inflamed  at  the  sight  of  each  other, 
began  to  clash  their  weapons.  Awed,  however,  by  the 
sacredness  of  the  place,  the  tumult  in  some  degree  ceased, 
and  Mr  Gilpin  proceeded  with  his  sermon.  In  a  short 
time  the  combatants  again  brandished  their  weapons,  and 
approached  each  other.  Mr  Gilpin  then  descended  from 
the  pulpit,  went  between  the  combatants,  and  addressing 
their  leaders,  put  an  end  to  their  quarrels  for  the  time, 
although  he  could  not  effect  an  entire  reconciUation. 
They  promised,  however,  that  until  the  sermon  was  over 
they  would  not  disturb  the  congregation.  He  then  re- 
turned to  the  pulpit,  and  devoted  the  rest  of  his  time  to 


2i8  Bernard  Gilpin. 


endeavouring  to  make  the  combatants  ashamed  of  their 
conduct.  His  behaviour  and  discourse  affected  them  so 
much,  that  at  his  further  entreaty  they  agreed  to  abstain 
from  all  further  acts  of  hostihty  while  he  continued  in  the 
county. 

On  another  occasion,  Mr  Gilpin,  going  into  the  church, 
observed  a  glove  hanging  up,  which  he  was  told  was  a 
challenge  to  any  one  that  should  take  it  down.  He 
ordered  the  sexton  to  give  it  to  him,  but  he  refused.  Mr 
Gilpin  then  reached  it  himself,  and  put  it  in  his  breast. 
When  the  congregation  was  assembled,  he  went  into  the 
pulpit,  and  in  the  course  of  his  sermon  severely  censured 
these  inhuman  challenges.  "  I  hear,"  said  he,  "  that  one 
among  you  has  hung  up  a  glove  even  in  this  sacred 
place,  threatening  to  fight  any  one  who  should  take  it 
down.  See,  I  have  done  this,"  holding  up  the  glove  to 
the  congregation,  and  again  inveighing  in  strong  terms 
against  such  unchristian  practices. 

"  I  hate,"  said  Gilpin  one  day,  "  to  see  a  thing  done 
by  halves.  If  it  is  right,  do  it  boldly  and  completely  ;  if 
it  is  wrong,  leave  it  altogether  undone  1" 


CHAPTER    VII. 

REMINISCENCES     OF    PREACHERS    AND    PREACHING    DURING 

THE      EIGHTEENTH     AND     NINETEENTH     CENTURIES 

QUAINT     AMERICAN      PREACHERS WHITEFIELD     AND 

THE  TWO  WESLEYS. 

CHRISTMAS  EVANS. 

!HE  Style  of  this  celebrated  Welsh  Nonconfor- 
mist orator  is  thus  sketched  by  a  competent 
American  writer : — 

*' Christmas  Evans  was  born  at  Ysgarwen, 
Cardiganshire,  South  Wales,  on  the  25th  of  December 
1766.  On  the  1 6th  of  July  1838,  he  preached  at  Swan- 
sea, and  said,  as  he  sat  down,  'This  is  my  last  sermon;' 
and  so  it  proved ;  for  that  night  he  was  taken  violently 
ill,  and  died  three  days  afterwards,  in  his  seventy-third 
year,  and  the  fifty-fourth  of  his  ministry. 

"Evans's  descriptive  powers  were  perhaps  never  ex- 
celled. His  imagination  was  of  the  imperial  order,  and 
absolutely  knew  no  bounds  ;  and  his  facility  in  the  ready 
use  of  language  altogether  wonderful.  Besides  this,  he  was 
a  man  of  the  liveliest  sensibilities,  and  always  spoke  out  of 
a  full  heart,  sometimes  storming  his  hearers  with  his  im- 
passioned earnestness,  and  sometimes  himself  overwhelmed 
with  the  magnitude  and  grandeur  of  his  theme.  Add  to 
this  his  pre-eminent  faith  and  hoHness  of  life,  and  we  dis- 


220  Christmas  Evans. 


cover  the  secret  of  his  astonishing  pulpit  eloquence — 
which,  according  to  Robert  Hall,  entitles  him  to  be 
ranked  among  the  first  men  of  his  age.  Of  course  no 
translator  can  do  him  full  justice,  but  the  wide  popularity 
of  these  discourses  is  the  best  evidence  of  their  real  merit, 
though  in  a  foreign  dress.  Perhaps  there  is  no  one,  upon 
the  whole,  superior  to  that,  a  portion  of  which  is  here 
given.  It  contains  one  or  two  passages,  which,  for  origin- 
ahty  and  brilliancy  of  conception,  and  for  force  of  utter- 
ance, are  absolutely  unrivalled." 

The  Fall  and  Recovery  of  Man. 

' '  For  if  through  the  offence  of  one  many  be  dead  ;  much  more 
the  grace  of  God,  and  the  gift  by  grace,  which  is  by  one  man,  Jesus 
Christ,  hath  abounded  unto  many." — Romans  v.  15. 

"  Man  was  created  in  the  image  of  God.  Knowledge 
and  perfect  holiness  were  impressed  upon  the  very  nature 
and  faculties  of  his  soul.  He  had  constant  access  to  his 
Maker,  and  enjoyed  free  communion  with  Him,  on  the 
ground  of  his  spotless  moral  rectitude.  But,  alas  !  the 
glorious  diadem  is  broken  ;  the  crown  of  righteousness  is 
fallen.  Man's  purity  is  gone,  and  his  happiness  is  forfeited. 
'  There  is  none  righteous;  no,  not  one.'  '  All  have  sinned, 
and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God.'  But  the  ruin  is  not 
hopeless.  What  was  lost  in  Adam  is  restored  in  Christ. 
His  blood  redeems  us  from  bondage,  and  His  gospel 
gives  us  back  the  forfeited  inheritance.  '  For  if  through 
the  offence  of  one  many  be  dead  ;  much  more  the  grace  of 
God,  and  the  gift  by  grace,  which  is  by  one  man,  Jesus 
Christ,  hath  abounded  unto  many.'  Let  us  consider  :  Jtrsf^ 
the  corruption  and  condemnation  of  man ;  and,  secondly, 
his  gracious  restoration  to  the  favour  of  his  offended  God. 


Christmas  Evans.  221 


"  I.  To  find  the  cause  of  man's  corruption  and  condem- 
nation we  must  go  back  to  Eden.  The  eating  of  the 
'forbidden  tree'  was  'the  offence  of  one,'  in  consequence 
of  which  *  many  are  dead.'  This  was  the  '  sin,'  the  act 
of  'disobedience,'  which  'brought  death  into  the  world, 
and  all  our  woe.'  It  was  the  greatest  ingratitude  to  the 
divine  bounty,  and  the  boldest  rebellion  against  the  divine 
sovereignty.  The  royalty  of  God  was  contemned  ;  the 
riches  of  His  goodness  slighted ;  and  His  most  desperate 
enemy  preferred  before  Him,  as  if  he  were  a  wiser  coun- 
sellor than  Infinite  Wisdom. 

******* 

•'Verily,  '  the  misery  of  man  is  great  upon  him  !'  Be- 
hold the  wretched  fallen  creature  !  The  pestilence  pursues 
him.  The  leprosy  cleaves  to  him.  Consumption  is  wasting 
him.  Inflammation  is  devouring  his  vitals.  Burning  fever 
has  seized  upon  the  very  springs  of  fife.  The  destroying 
angel  has  overtaken  the  sinner  in  his  sins.  The  hand  of 
God  is  upon  him.  The  fires  of  wrath  are  kindling  about 
him,  drying  up  every  well  of  comfort,  and  scorching  all  his 
hopes  to  ashes.  Conscience  is  chastising  him  with  scor- 
pions. See  how  he  writhes  !  Hear  how  he  shrieks  for 
help  !  Mark  what  agony  and  terror  are  in  his  soul,  and 
on  his  brow  !  Death  stares  him  in  the  face,  and  shakes 
at  him  his  iron  spear.  He  trembles,  he  turns  pale,  as  a 
culprit  at  the  bar,  as  a  convict  on  the  scaffold.  He  is 
condemned  already.  Conscience  has  pronounced  the 
sentence.  Anguish  has  taken  hold  upon  him.  Terrors 
gather  in  battle  array  about  him.  He  looks  back,  and  the 
storms  of  Sinai  pursue  him  j  forward,  and  hell  is  moved  to 
meet  him  ;  above,  and  the  heavens  are  on  fire  ;  beneath, 
and  the  world  is  burning.     He  listens,  and  the  judgment 


222  Christmas  Eva?is. 


trump  is  calling ;  again,  and  the  brazen  chariots  of 
vengeance  are  thundering  from  afar;  yet  again,  and  the 
sentence  pierces  his  soul  with  anguish  unspeakable — 
'■  Depart !  ye  accursed  !  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for 
the  devil  and  his  angels  !' 

"  Thus,  '  by  one  man,  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and 
death  by  sin  ;  and  so  death  passed  upon  all  men,  for  that 
all  have  sinned.'  They  are  '  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  / 
spiritually  dead,  and  legally  dead;  dead  by  the  mortal 
power  of  sin,  and  dead  by  the  condemnatory  sentence  of 
the  law ;  and  helpless  as  sheep  to  the  slaughter,  they  are 
driven  fiercely  on  by  the  ministers  of  wrath  to  the  all- 
devouring  grave,  and  the  lake  of  fire  ! 

"But  is  there  no  mercy  ?  Is  there  no  means  of  salvation  % 
Hark  !  amidst  all  the  prelude  of  wrath  and  ruin,  comes  a 
still  small  voice,  saying  :  '  Much  more  the  grace  of  God, 
and  the  gift  by  grace,  which  is  by  one  man,  Jesus  Christ, 
hath  abounded  unto  many.' 

"  2.  This  brings  us  to  our  second  topic,  man's  gracious 
recovery  to  the  favour  of  his  offended  God. 

"  I  know  not  how  to  represent  to  you  this  glorious  work 
better  than  by  the  following  figure  : — Suppose  a  vast  grave- 
yard, surrounded  by  a  lofty  wall,  with  only  one  entrance, 
which  is  by  a  massive  iron  gate,  and  that  is  fast  bolted. 
Within  are  thousands  and  millions  of  human  beings,  of  all 
ages  and  classes,  by  one  epidemic  disease  bending  to  the 
grave.  The  graves  yawn  to  swallow  them,  and  they  must 
all  perish.  There  is  no  balm  to  relieve,  no  physician 
there.  Such  is  the  condition  of  man  as  a  sinner.  All 
have  sinned  ;  and  it  is  written,  *  The  soul  that  sinneth 
shall  die.'  But  while  the  unhappy  race  lay  in  that  dismal 
prison,  Mercy  came  and  stood  at  the  gate,  and  wept  over 


Christmas  Evans.  223 


the  melancholy  scene,  exclaiming,  *  O  that  I  might  enter ! 
I  would  bind  up  their  wounds  ;  I  would  relieve  their  sor- 
rows;  I  would  save  their  souls  !'  An  embassy  of  angels, 
commissioned  from  the  court  of  heaven  to  some  other 
world,  paused  at  the  sight,  and  heaven  forgave  that  pause. 
Seeing  Mercy  standing  there,  they  cried  :  '  Mercy  !  canst 
thou  not  enter?  Canst  thou  look  upon  that  scene  and  not 
pity  %  Canst  thou  pity,  and  not  relieve  V  Mercy  replied  : 
'  I  can  see  !'  and  in  her  tears  she  added,  '  I  can  pity,  but 
I  cannot  reUeve  !'  '■  Why  canst  thou  not  enter?'  inquired 
the  heavenly  host.  '  O  ! '  said  Mercy,  '  Justice  has  barred 
the  gate  against  me,  and  I  must  not — cannot  unbar  it.' 
At  this  moment  Justice  appeared,  as  if  to  watch  the  gate. 
The  angels  asked,  'Why  wilt  thou  not  suffer  Mercy  to 
enter?'  He  sternly  replied  :  'The  law  is  broken,  and  it 
must  be  honoured!  Die  they  or  Justice  must!'  Then 
appeared  a  form  among  the  angelic  band  like  unto  the 
Son  of  God.  Addressing  himself  to  Justice,  he  said  : 
'  What  are  thy  demands  ?'  Justice  replied  :  '  My  de- 
mands are  rigid ;  I  must  have  ignominy  for  their  honour, 
sickness  for  their  health,  death  for  their  life.  Without  the 
shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission  !'  'Justice,'  said 
the  Son  of  God,  '  I  accept  thy  terms  !  On  me  be  this 
wrong  !    Let  Mercy  enter,  and  stay  the  carnival  of  death  ! ' " 

The  Journey  for  the  Young  Child. 
"  Herod  said  to  the  wise  men,  'Go  and  search  diligently 
for  the  young  child.'  The  Magi  immediately  commenced 
their  inquiries,  according  to  the  instructions  they  received. 
I  see  them  approaching  some  village,  and  when  they  come 
to  the  gate  they  inquire,  '  Do  you  know  anything  of  the 
young  child?'      The  gateman  comes  to  the  door,  and. 


224  The  Journey  for  the  Young  Child. 


supposing  them  to  have  asked  the  amount  of  the  toll, 
says,  '  O,  three-halfpence  an  ass  is  to  pay.'  '  We  do  not 
ask  what  is  to  pay,'  reply  they,  '  but  do  you  know  anything 
of  the  young  child  % '  '  No  ;  I  know  nothing  in  the  world,' 
answers  he ;  '  but  there  is  a  blacksmith's  shop  a  httle 
farther  on  ;  inquire  there,  and  you  will  be  very  likely  to 
obtain  some  intelligence  concerning  him.' 

"  The  wise  men  proceed,  and  when  they  come  to  the 
blacksmith's  shop,  they  ask,  '  Do  you  know  anything  of 
the  young  child ] '  A  harsh  voice  answers,  'There  is  no 
such  thing  possible  for  you  as  having  the  asses  shod  now ; 
you  shall  in  two  hours  hence.'  '  We  do  not  ask  you  to 
shoe  the  asses,'  say  they ;  '  but  inquire  for  the  young 
child,  if  you  know  anything  of  him?'  *  Nothing  in  the 
world,'  says  the  blacksmith ;  '  but  inquire  at  the  tavern 
that  is  on  your  road,  and  probably  you  may  hear  some- 
thing of  him  there.' 

''On  they  go,  and  stand  opposite  the  door  of  the  tavern, 
and  cry,  '  Do  you  know  anything  of  the  young  child  % ' 
The  landlord,  thinking  they  call  for  porter,  bids  the 
servant  attend,  saying,  '  Go,  girl ;  go  with  a  quart  of 
porter  to  the  strangers.'  '  We  do  not  ask  for  either 
porter  or  ale,'  say  the  wise  men  j  '  but  something  about 
the  young  child  that  is  born.'  '  I  know  nothing  in  the 
world  of  him,'  says  the  landlord  j  '  but  turn  to  the  shop  on 
the  left  hand  ;  the  shopkeeper  reads  all  the  papers,  and 
you  will  be  likely  to  hear  something  respecting  him 
there.' 

"They  proceed  accordingly  towards  the  shop,  and  re- 
peat their  inquiry,  '  Do  you  know  anything  of  the  young 
child  here  % '  The  shopkeeper  says  to  his  apprentice, 
'  Reach  half  a  quarter  of  tobacco  to  the  strangers.'     'We 


The  Bemn.  225 

do  not  ask  for  tobacco/  say  the  wise  men,  '  but  for  some 
intelligence  of  the  young  child.'  *  I  do  not  know  anything 
of  him,'  replies  the  shopkeeper ;  '  but  there  is  an  old  rabbi 
living  in  the  upper  end  of  the  village ;  call  on  him,  and 
very  probably  he  will  give  you  all  the  information  you 
desire  respecting  the  object  of  your  nearch.' 

"  They  immediately  directed  their  course  towards  the 
house  of  the  rabbi ;  and  having  reached  it,  they  knock  at 
the  door,  and  being  admitted  into  his  presence,  they  ask 
him  if  he  knows  anything  of  the  young  child.  '  Come  in,' 
says  he ;  and  when  they  have  entered  and  are  seated,  the 
rabbi  refers  to  his  books  and  chronicles,  and  says  he  to 
the  wise  men,  '  There  is  something  wonderful  about  to 
take  place ;  some  remarkable  person  has  been  or  is  to  be 
born ;  but  the  best  thing  is  for  you  to  go  down  yonder 
street;  there  is  living  there,  by  the  river  side,  the  son  of 
an  old  priest ;  you  will  be  sure  to  know  all  of  him.' 

"  Having  bid  the  old  rabbi  a  respectful  farewell,  on  they 
go ;  and  reaching  the  river's  side,  they  inquire  of  the  by- 
standers for  the  son  of  the  old  priest.  Immediately  he  is 
pointed  out  to  them.  There  is  a  '  raiment  of  camel's  hair 
about  him,  and  a  leathern  girdle  a*bout  his  loins.'  They 
ask  him  if  he  knows  anything  of  the  young  child.  '  Yes,' 
says  he,  *  There  He  is:  behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  that 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world  !  There  He  is ;  He 
will  bruise  the  dragon's  head,  and  bring  in  everlasting 
righteousness  to  every  one  that  beUeveth  in  His  name.' " 

The  Bea7n. 

"  Then  I  saw  the  beam  of  a  great  scale  ;  one  end 
descending  to  the  abyss,  borne  down  by  the  power  of  the 
atonement ;  the  other  ascending  to  the  heaven  of  heavens, 

p 


226  Last  Words  of  Christmas  Evans. 

and  lifting  up  the  prisoners  of  the  tomb.  Wonderful 
scheme  !  Christ  condemned  for  our  justification ;  for- 
saken of  His  Father,  that  we  might  enjoy  His  fellowship; 
passing  under  the  curse  of  the  law,  to  bear  it  away  from 
the  believer  for  ever  !  This  is  the  great  scale  of  redemp- 
tion. As  one  end  of  the  beam  falls  under  the  load  of  our 
sins  which  were  laid  on  Christ,  the  other  rises,  bearing 
the  basket  of  mercy,  full  of  pardons,  and  blessings,  and 
Hopes.  *  He  who  knew  no  sin  was  made  sin  for  us ' — that 
is  His  end  of  the  beam  \  *  that  we  might  be  made  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  Him ' — this  is  ours.  '  Though  He 
was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  He  became  poor ' — there  goes 
His  end  down ;  '  that  we,  through  His  poverty,  might  be 
rich' — here  comes  ours  up." 

Christmas  Evans  was  kind  and  tender  to  dumb  animals. 
The  following  account  of  his  death  is  so  characteristic  of 
the  man,  that  it  ought  to  be  had  in  remembrance.  To 
several  persons  standing  round  his  bed,  he  said  :'^ 

"  Look  at  me  in  myself,  I  am  nothing  but  ruin  ;  but  look 
at  me  in  Christ,  I  am  heaven  and  salvation."  He  added 
in  a  joyous  strain  four  lines  of  a  Welsh  hymn;  then  waving 
his  hand,  he  said  in  English,  "  Good-bye,  drive  o ft  /"  Was 
it  another  instance  of  the  labour  of  life  pervading  by  its 
master-idea  the  hour  of  death  1  For  upwards  of  twenty 
years,  "  the  one-eyed  man  of  Anglesea  " — ("  an  eye,  sir," 
said  Robert  Hall  of  that  one  eye,  "  that  might  light  an 
army  through  a  wilderness")  —  for  upwards  of  twenty 
years,  as  he  had  gone  to  and  fro,  his  friends  had  given  to 
him  a  gig,  that  he  might  go  at  his  ease  his  own  way,  with 
a  horse,  called  Jack,  which  became  very  old  in  his  master's 
service.  Jack  knew  from  a  distance  the  very  tones  of  his 
*  Paxton  Hood's  *'  Lamps,  Pitchers,  &c." 


American  Preaching.  227 


master's  voice ;  with  him  Christmas  Evans  in  long  jour- 
neys held  many  a  conversation  j  the  horse  opened  his 
ears  the  moment  his  master  began  to  speak,  and  made  a 
kind  of  neighing  reply ;  then  the  rider  said,  as  he  often 
did,  ''Jack  bach,  we  have  only  to  cross  one  low  mountain 
again,  and  there  will  be  capital  oats,  excellent  water,  and 
a  warm  stable."  Thus,  while  he  was  dying,  old  mountain 
days  came  over  his  memory.  "  Good-bye,"  said  he, 
"  drive  on  ! "  They  were  his  last  words ;  he  sank  into 
a  calm  sleep,  and  awoke  no  more. 

John  Wesley's  last  words  were,  '•  Bless  the  Church 
AND  King  !  The  best  of  all  is,  God  is  with  us." 
Napoleon  expired  amidst  the  roar  of  a  thunderstorm, 
muttering,  "  T"ete  d'Arm^e,  Tete  d'Arm^e."  Dr  Adam, 
the  celebrated  Scottish  schoolmaster,  said,  "  It  is  grow- 
ing dark,  boys;  you  may  dismiss!"  Lord  Tenterden 
arose  suddenly  in  his  bed  and  said,  "  Gentlemen  of  the 
Jury,  you  may  now  retire  and  consider  your  verdict  ! " 
Goethe,  the  poet,  said,  "  More  light  !"  By  the  side  of 
these  let  the  last  words  of  the  indefatigable  itinerant  of 
Anglesea  not  be  forgotten,  "  Good-bye  ;  Jack  bach, 
drive  on  ! " 

A    Voting  American  Preacher, 

Whose  aspirations  for  celebrity  as  a  preacher  were  only 
equalled  by  his  want  of  all  the  essential  elements  except 
confidence,  and  w4io  was  finally  discontinued  from  the 
work,  was  once  discoursing  on  the  expansive  character  of 
the  human  mind,  and  said,  "  Yes,  my  friends,  the  mind  of 
man  is  so  expansive  that  it  can  soar  from  star  to  star,  and 
from  satchelite  to  satchelite,  and  from  seraphene  to  sera- 


228  Modes  of  Arresting  AUetition. 

phene,  and  from  cherrybeam  to  cherrybeam,  and  from 
thence  to  the  center  of  the  doom  of  heaven." 

All  attempts  at  soaring  above  a  man's  natural  capacity 
John  Wesley  used  to  call  "grasping  at  the  stars  and  stick- 
ing in  the  mud." 

An  Irish  orator  once  said,  in  his  sermon,  "  Could  I 
place  one  foot  upon  the  sea,  and  the  other  upon  the 
Georgiumsidus,  dip  my  tongue  into  the  livid  lightnings, 
and  throw  my  voice  into  the  bellowing  thunder,  I  would 
wake  the  world  with  the  command,  "  Repent,  turn  to  God, 
and  seek  salvation." 

It  is  said  that  a  young  American  divine,  thinking  that 
very  sublime,  once  tried  in  the  pulpit  to  take  the  same 
flight,  saying,  "  Could  I  place  one  foot  on  the  sea,  and 
the  other  on — ahem — on  the  Georgiumsidus — ahem,  ahem 
— I  'd  howl  round  this  little  world."  He  choked  on  the 
big  word,  forgot  the  rest,  and  down  he  came  a  howHng. 

Quaint  Ajnerican  Modes  of  Arresting  Attention, 

Some  instances  of  quaint  methods  have  been  quoted 
from  the  lives  of  eminent  French  preachers,  showing  how 
they  endeavoured  to  arrest  attention.  The  following, 
drawn  from  American  sources,  have  at  least  the  merit  of 
originality : — 

An  old  preacher,  while  holding  forth  on  one  occasion, 
finding  that  his  hearers  were  listless  and  sleepy,  stopped  in 
the  midst  of  his  discourse,  and,  after  a  pause  of  sufficient 
length  to  cause  them  all  to  look  up,  pointing  upward,  he 
said,  "The  fork  of  that  tree  would  make  a  good  pack- 
saddle."  He  thus  arrested  their  attention,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded with  his  sermon. 

Another,  on  one  occasion,  preached  on  the  subject  of 


Lorenzo  Dow,  229 


hell.  When  he  was  about  reaching  the  climax  of  his 
descriptions  of  the  infernal  regions,  language  seemed  to 
fail  under  the  weight  of  some  wonderful  forthcoming 
thought,  when,  after  a  little  pause,  he  pulled  a  match  out 
of  his  pocket,  and,  striking  it,  held  it  up,  saying,  "  Do 
you  see  that  %  See  its  blue  blazes  and  curling  smoke ; 
and,  oh,  what  a  smell !  and  yet  this  is  a  very  small  matter 
compared  with  the  dreadful  hell  to  which  sinners  are 
hastening."  That  was  a  silly  trifling  with  the  subject  and 
the  occasion. 

Another,  a  man  of  considerable  power,  was  preaching 
one  night  to  a  large  audience,  but  failed  to  arrest  their 
attention.  In  the  midst  of  his  sermon  three  young  men 
came  into  church,  to  whom  he  addressed  himself  as  they 
were  entering,  saying,  "  If  I  had  known  you  were  coming 
in  with  that  dagger  to  arrest  these  men,  I  could  have  had 
the  whole  matter  amicably  adjusted,  and  avoided  all  this 
trouble."  The  people  were  so  startled  that  many  sprang 
to  their  feet,  and  he  had  to  assure  them  that  there  was  no 
danger,  and  that  he  had  only  adopted  that  plan  to  wake 
them  up,  before  he  could  get  them  quiet.  He  succeeded 
in  arresting  attention,  but  "  paid  too  dear  for  the  whistle." 
It  was  an  uncertain  sound  of  the  trumpet.  His  hearers 
felt  that  he  had  been  trifling  with  them,  and  the  reaction 
was  very  unfavourable. 

LORENZO  DOW. 

It  is  said  that,  at  one  time,  when  Lorenzo  Dow  preached 
under  a  large  spruce  pine,  in  South  Carolina,  he  announced 
another  appointment  for  preaching  in  the  same  place  on 
that  day  twelve  months.  The  year  passed,  and  as  Lorenzo 
was  entering  the  neighbourhood  the  evening  preceding  his 


§30  Lorenzo  Dow. 


appointment,  he  overtook  a  coloured  boy  who  was  blow- 
ing a  long  tin  horn,  and  could  send  forth  a  blast  with  rise, 
and  swell,  and  cadence,  which  waked  the  echoes  of  the 
distant  hills. 

Calling  aside  the  blower,  Dow  said  to  him:  "What's 
your  name,  sir  % " 

"  My  name — Gabriel,  sir,"  replied  the  brother  in  ebony. 

"Well,  Gabriel,  have  you  been  to  Church  HilH" 

"  Yes,  massa,  I  'se  been  dar  many  a  time." 

"  Do  you  remember  a  big  spruce  pine  tree  on  that 
hilir* 

"  O  yes,  massa,  I  knows  dat  pine." 

"Did  you  know  that  Lorenzo  Dow  had  an  appointment 
to  preach  under  that  tree  to-morrow  % " 

"  O  yes,  massa,  everybody  knows  dat." 

"  Well,  Gabriel,  I  am  Lorenzo  Dow,  and  if  you  '11  take 
your  horn  and  go,  to-morrow  morning,  and  climb  up  into 
that  pine-tree  and  hide  yourself  among  the  branches  before 
the  people  begin  to  gather,  and  wait  there  till  I  call  your 
name,  and  then  blow  such  a  blast  with  your  horn  as  I 
heard  you  blow  a  minute  ago,  I  '11  give  you  a  dollar.  Will 
you  do  it,  Gabriel  % " 

"  Yes,  massa,  I  takes  dat  dollar." 

Gabriel,  like  Zaccheus,  was  hid  away  in  the  tree-top  in 
due  time.  An  immense  concourse  of  persons,  of  all  sizes 
and  colours,  assembled  at  the  appointed  hour,  and  Dow 
preached  on  the  judgment  of  the  last  day.  By  his  power 
of  description  he  wrought  the  multitude  up  to  the  opening 
of  the  scenes  of  the  resurrection  and  grand  assize,  at  the 
call  of  the  trumpet  peals  which  were  to  wake  the  sleeping 
nations.  "Then,"  said  he,  "suppose,  my  dying  friends,  that 
this  should  be  the  hour.     Suppose  you  should  hear,  at  this 


Gabriel  in  the  Spruce  Pine.  23 1 

moment,  the  sound  of  Gabriel's  trumpet."  Sure  enough 
at  that  moment  the  trump  of  Gabriel  sounded.  The 
women  shrieked,  and  many  fainted  ;  the  men  sprang  up 
and  stood  aghast  \  some  ran ;  others  fell  and  cried  for 
mercy  ;  and  all  felt,  for  a  time,  that  the  judgment  was  set, 
and  the  books  were  opened.  Dow  stood  and  watched 
the  driving  storm  till  the  fright  abated,  and  some  one  dis- 
covered the  coloured  angel  who  had  caused  the  alarm, 
quietly  perched  on  a  limb  of  the  old  spruce,  and  wanted 
to  get  him  down  to  whip  him,  and  then  resumed  his 
theme,  saying,  "  I  forbid  all  persons  from  touching  that 
boy  up  there.  If  a  coloured  boy,  with  a  tin  horn,  can 
frighten  you  almost  out  of  your  wits,  what  will  ye  do  when 
you  shall  hear  the  trumpet  thunder  of  the  archangel? 
How  will  ye  be  able  to  stand  in  the  great  day  of  the 
wrath  of  God  % "  He  made  a  very  effective  application. 
That  was  better  than  a  long,  dry  sermon,  conveying  no 
impression,  except  that  the  tidings  of  gospel  mercy  were 
of  no  moment,  at  all,  and  sinners  in  no  danger,  or  in  dan- 
ger so  trifling  as  not  to  wake  up  the  souls  of  either  the 
preacher  or  his  hearers.  The  deception  involved  in  the 
latter  case  is  quite  as  great,  and  much  more  fatal  than  the 
temporary  deception  of  Dow's  stratagem.  But  still,  while 
that  may  have  been  admissible  for  Lorenzo  Dow,  such  a 
thing,  with  all  kindred  stratagems,  is  not  necessary  to 
effective  gospel  preaching,  and  should  not  be  resorted  to. 

An  American  preacher  of  considerable  power  and  great 
celebrity,  among  other  fanciful  pictures  drawn,  on  one 
occasion,  for  the  entertainment  of  his  audience,  repre- 
sented an  "  angel  running  on  a  rainbow  with  a  basket  of 
stars  in  each  hand." 

Another,  speaking  of  a  conveyance  to  the  better  world, 


232  -       Lorenzo  Dow. 


said,  "  I  will  jump  astride  a  streak  of  lightning,  put  spurs 
to  it,  and  dash  off  to  glory."  Such  fancies  may  arrest 
the  attention,  but  represent  no  reality  in  this  world  or  the 
next,  illustrate  no  truth,  convey  no  definite  instruction, 
and  are  hence  inappropriate. 

Another  once  arose  and  said  to  his  audience,  "  I  have 
got  up  here  to  display  my  ignorance  before  you  all."  He 
did  all  that  he  proposed  to  do. 

A  man  once  went  to  Vincennes,  in  the  United  States, 
to  hear  Lorenzo  Dow  preach  on  backsliding.  He  said, 
"  An  immense  concourse  of  people  assembled  in  the 
woods,  and  waited  for  Dow's  arrival.  Finally  he  made 
his  appearance,  and  at  the  time  all  expected  the  sermon, 
he  arose,  climbed  up  a  smooth  sapling,  and  cried  out, 
*  Hold  on  there,  Dow ;  hold  on.'  Then  he  began  to  slide 
down,  now  and  then  stopping,  and  repeating,  '  Hold  on 
there,  Dow ;  hold  on.'  He  soon  slid  down  to  the  ground, 
and  put  on  his  hat  and  left.  That  was  all  the  sermon  we 
heard  that  day." 

"  In  these  allusions  to  Lorenzo,"  says  an  American  writer, 
"  it  is  not  meant  to  cast  any  reflections  on  his  character 
or  precious  memory.  When  I  was  stationed  in  George- 
town, D.  C,  a  number  of  years  ago,  I  took  *  Reformation 
John  Adams,'  of  new  Hampshire,  to  see  Lorenzo's  grave, 
in  a  cemetery  in  the  northern  suburbs  of  Washington  City. 
Adams  wept  over  it  and  said,  '  Precious  man  of  God,  he 
was  my  spiritual  father,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  will 
meet  him  in  heaven.'  Many,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  in 
heaven  record  sweet  memories  of  that  eccentric  servant 
of  God  \  but  we  should  not  imitate  his  oddities." 

An  American  minister,  of  fine  descriptive  power,  was, 
on  one  occasion,  preaching  about  heaven  ;  and,  to  show 


Laughing  and  Crying  in  Church,  233 

the  absurdity  of  Emanuel  Swedenborg's  ideas  on  the  sub- 
ject, drew  a  graphic  picture  of  the  Swedenborgian  heaven, 
with  its  beautiful  fields,  fine  horses,  cows,  and  pretty 
women  ;  and,  in  the  midst  of  his  glowing  description,  a 
good  old  sister,  carried  away  with  the  scene,  went  into 
raptures,  and  shouted,  "  Glory,  glory,  glory  !  " 

The  preacher  was  so  disconcerted  that  he  paused, 
seeming  hardly  to  know  what  next  to  do,  till  the  presiding 
elder  in  the  stand  behind  him  cried  out  to  the  shouter, 
''  Hold  on,  there,  sister;  you  are  shouting  over  the  wrong 
heaven." 

On  this  incident  another  American,  Mr  Taylor,  in  the 
"  Model  Preacher,"  remarks,  with  much  practical  wisdom 
and  acuteness  : — 

"  The  degree  of  excitement  which  you  wish  to  produce 
by  an  illustration  should  be  graduated  by  the  character  of 
the  subject  to  be  illustrated.  The  background  of  a  pic- 
ture may  be  so  clearly  drawn,  and  so  highly  coloured,  as 
to  weaken  or  destroy  the  effect  of  the  principal  figure.  So 
the  exciting  character  of  a  mere  incident  may  be  such  as 
to  carry  the  feelings  of  the  hearer  away  from  the  subject, 
instead  of  carrying  them  to  it." 

Laughing  and  Crying  in  Church. 
A  good  old  American  doctor  of  divinity  went  to  hear  a 
preacher  who  always  woke  up  the  people.  The  doctor, 
determined  to  maintain  his  standard  of  ministerial  dig- 
nity, would  neither  laugh  nor  cry,  not  he.  He  listened 
for  a  time  with  his  face  in  his  hands,  looking  as  if  he  was 
asleep.  By  and  by  he  ventured  to  raise  his  dignified 
head,  and  cast  his  eyes  over  the  audience,  but  before  he 
knew  it  he  caught  the  prevaiUng  sympathy,  and  both 


234  Smiling  and  Weeping  in  Church. 

laughed  and  cried;  for  which  he  became  so  displeased 
with  himself  that  he  would  not  go  to  hear  that  preacher 
again. 

The  doctor  was  a  very  good  man,  and  a  good  friend  of 
the  said  preacher ;  but  such  were  his  ideas  of  the  solemn 
decorum  befitting  the  house  of  the  Lord,  that  he  could 
hardly  forgive  himself  for  giving  way  to  his  feelings,  and 
would  not  again  risk  his  ministerial  dignity  under  the 
preaching  of  that  man. 

A  minister  who  had  led  the  van  to  many  a  battle,  in 
which  hundreds  of  souls  were  rescued  from  the  power  ol 
the  prince  of  darkness,  preached  on  one  occasion  to  a 
very  large  audience  with  good  effect ;  but,  because  some 
of  the  auditors  smiled  during  the  sermon,  one  of  the 
church  members  accosted  the  preacher,  as  he  was  passing 
down  the  aisle,  thus,  "  I  '11  never  go  to  hear  you  preach 
again,  sir.  You  make  the  people  laugh,  and  I  can't  stand 
such  a  thing  in  the  house  of  God.  I  hope  you  will  never 
preach  here  any  more ;"  and  on  he  went  abusing  the 
strange  minister  in  the  presence  of  the  dispersing  mul- 
titude, in  a  loud,  angry  tone,  till  some  of  his  brethren 
commanded  him  to  be  quiet. 

"  Smiles  and  tears,"  says  Mr  Taylor,  "  are  both  alike 
liable  to  misuse  and  abuse.  Many  persons  waste  their 
tears  over  a  novel  or  a  farce,  just  as  many  laugh  at  things 
trifling  and  silly.  Many,  too,  on  occasions  worthy  these 
spontaneous  expressions  of  the  soul,  laugh  or  cry  to  excess. 
Levity  in  the  house  of  God  is  execrable,  but  the  risible 
emotions  excited  by  the  appositeness  of  a  happy  illustra 
tion  of  truth,  and  serving  to  swell  the  sails  that  bear  the 
soul  heavenward,  or  that  arise  from  religious  joy  in  the 
soul,  are  just  as  appropriate  in  divine  worship  as  tears. 


Personality  in  the  American  Pulpit,  235 

This  last  is  an  assertion  so  questionable  with  many  per- 
sons, that  I  will  stop  a  moment  to  examine  the  law  and 
the  testimony  on  the  subject." 

Crying  in  the  wrong  place. 

I  remember,  (says  Foster,  in  speaking  of  Robert  Hall,) 
at  the  distance  of  many  years,  with  what  vividness  of  the 
ludicrous  he  related  an  anecdote  of  a  preacher,  long  since 
deceased,  of  some  account  in  his  day  and  connexion.  He 
would,  in  preaching,  sometimes  weep,  or  seem  to  weep, 
when  the  people  wondered  why,  as  not  perceiving  in  what 
he  was  saying  any  cause  for  such  emotion,  in  the  exact 
places  where  it  occurred.  After  his  death,  one  of  his  hearers 
happening  to  inspect  some  of  his  manuscript  sermons,  ex- 
claimed, "  I  have  found  the  explanation  ;  we  used  to  won- 
der at  the  good  doctor's  weeping  with  so  little  reason 
sometimes,  as  it  seemed.  In  his  sermons,  there  is  written 
here  and  there  on  the  margins,  '  cry  here.'  Now,  I  really 
believe  the  doctor  sometimes  mistook  the  place,  and  that 
was  the  cause  of  what  appeared  so  unaccountable." 

Directness  and  Perso?iaHiy  in  the  American  Pulpit. 

"  During  a  revival  of  religion  in  Greenbrier  county, 
Virginia,  a  man  by  the  name  of  Armstrong  was  converted, 
and  in  relating  his  experience  said  : — '  Having  heard  of 
this  revival,  and  that  so  many  of  my  neighbours  had 
obtained  religion,  I  came,  one  night,  to  see  how  it  was 
done. 

"  The  preacher,  that  night,  instead  of  preaching  to  the 
people,  as  I  expected,  got  up  and  talked  to  me,  and  told 
me  how  I  had  been  living,  and  what  I  had  come  for,  and 
what  I  was  thinking  about,   and  exposed   me  publicly 


236  Felix  Neff. 


right  there  before  all  my  neighbours.  I  never  felt  so 
much  ashamed  in  my  life  before,  but  was  mad  to  think 
that  anybody  should  be  so  mean  as  to  go  and  tell  the 
preacher  all  about  me.  I  was  sure  somebody  had  done 
it  j  for  I  knew  the  preacher  was  an  entire  stranger  to  me. 
"  The  next  night  I  came  in  early,  and  hid  behind  the 
door.  I  thought  if  the  preacher  did  not  see  me,  he 
would  let  me  alone,  and  preach  to  the  people  ;  but  the 
first  thing  he  commenced  on  me  again,  and  raked  me  so 
severely,  that  I  cried,  and  when  he  called  for  mourners  I 
went  forward  and  prayed.  The  next  night  God,  for 
Christ's  sake,  pardoned  my  sins,  and  now  I  love  that 
preacher  more  than  any  other  living  man." 

FELIX  NEFF. 

Amongst  the  great  and  good  men  whose  names  illus- 
trate the  Genevese  annals  in  modern  times,  that  of  Felix 
Neff  should  not  be  forgotten.  He  was  born  in  a  village 
near  the  city  in  the  year  1798.  Twenty  years  later  he 
became  a  sincere  Christian  in  the  city  itself  And  thither 
in  ten  years  more  he  returned  to  die.  Yet  in  those  ten 
years  how  much  of  intense  and  devoted  labour  was 
crowded  !  Measuring  life  by  years,  we  mourn  over  the 
premature  death  of  the  youth  who  passed  away  at  thirty. 
Measuring  hfe  by  labour  and  achievement  he  had  attained 
a  good  old  age.  Few  men  have  done  more  during  a  life- 
time than  he  in  the  brief  interval  between  his  conversion 
and  his  departure.  Of  the  nature  of  those  labours  the 
following  extract  from  one  of  his  own  letters  may  serve  as 
an  illustration : — 

"  I  preached,"  says  Neff,  "  on  the  Sabbath  at  Dormil- 
leuse,  and  early  next  morning  took  my  departure,  in  order 


Felix  Neff.  237 


to  cross  the  Col  d'Orsiere,  a  mountain  which  separates 
the  valley  of  Fressiniere  from  that  of  Champsaur,  through 
which  the  river  Drac  runs.  I  had  two  guides  to  direct 
me  in  crossing  this  mountain.  At  this  season  of  the  year 
the  passage  is  seldom  practicable.  Having  left  the  vil- 
lage of  Dormilleuse,  we  proceeded  onwards  towards  the 
Col,  along  the  foot  of  the  glaciers,  walking  for  three  hours 
through  snows,  some  of  which  had  recently  fallen,  but  the 
greater  part  probably  had  lain  for  centuries.  The  sky  was 
clear  and  beautiful,  and,  notwithstanding  our  great  eleva- 
tion, the  cold  was  not  unusually  severe.  In  many  places 
the  snow  was  firm,  but  in  others  quite  soft,  and  we  often 
sank  in  it  up  to  our  knees.  The  peasants  had,  however, 
been  considerate  enough  to  envelop  my  shoes  with  wool ; 
and  we  had  furnished  ourselves  with  a  plentiful  supply  of 
provisions  for  our  journey.  Since  the  fall  of  snow  in  Sep- 
tember only  two  persons  had  effected  this  passage,  and 
we  followed  in  their  track,  which  was  crossed  at  intervals 
by  the  footmarks  of  wolves  and  chamois,  and  traces  of 
marmot  hunters.  After  we  had  gained  the  summit  of  the 
Col,  we  had  still  the  prospect  of  a  dreary  walk  of  two 
hours  before  we  could  reach  the  first  hamlet  of  the  Val 
d'Orsiere,  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  snows  near  the  sources 
of  the  Drac.  Here  my  guides  left  me,  and  I  proceeded 
alone  towards  Mens." 

In  the  month  of  January  (1824)  NefF  writes: — "Last 
Sabbath  I  preached  twice  at  Violin,  after  which  I  retired 
to  a  cottage,  where  I  read  a  portion  of  Scripture,  and  com- 
mented upon  it  until  ten  at  night,  when  my  congregation 
withdrew.  Many  of  them  had  come  from  remote  dis- 
tances, and  as  the  night  was  dark,  they  had  provided  them- 
selves with  torches  to  guide  them  through  the  snow. 


238  Felix  Neff. 


"  The  next  morning  I  began  my  ascent  towards  Dormil- 
leuse,  the  last  and  most  elevated  of  all  the  hamlets  in  the 
valley  of  Fressiniere.  Its  inhabitants,  descended  in  an 
unbroken  line  from  the  ancient  Vaudois,  have  rendered 
it  celebrated  by  their  resistance,  during  six  hundred  years, 
to  the  efforts  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  Their  brethren  in 
some  of  the  adjacent  communes,  whose  habitations  were 
not  so  guarded  by  rugged  ramparts  and  precipices,  were 
often  surprised  by  their  foes,  and  compelled  either  to  dis- 
semble their  faith,  or  become  the  victims  of  cruel  perse- 
cution. Many  of  them  fled  to  Dormilleuse,  where  they 
found  an  impregnable  refuge.  This  place  stands  upon 
the  brink  of  a  rock  which  is  almost  perpendicular ;  it  is 
completely  surrounded  by  glaciers ;  and  a  dark  forest 
stretches  along  the  flank  of  the  mountain,  presenting  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  snow  which  covers  its  summit. 
The  only  place  where  the  ascent  is  practicable  is  a  steep 
and  slippery  footpath.  A  mere  handful  of  men  stationed 
here  could  with  ease  repel  the  attacks  of  a  numerous 
army,  and  hurl  their  assailants  into  the  frightful  abyss 
beneath.  For  six  hundred  years  Dormilleuse  was  the  city 
of  refuge  for  the  Christians  of  these  valleys,  who  had  suc- 
cessfully resisted  both  violence  and  seduction ;  and,  dur- 
ing this  long  period,  had  never  crouched  before  the  idols 
of  the  Church  of  Rome,  or  suffered  their  religion  to  be 
tainted  by  any  of  its  corruptions.  There  are  yet  visible 
the  ruins  of  the  walls  and  fortresses  which  they  erected  to 
preserve  themselves  from  surprise,  and  to  repel  the  frequent 
assaults  of  their  oppressors.  The  sublime,  yet  frightful 
aspect  of  this  mountain  desert,  which  served  as  a  retreat 
for  the  truth  when  nearly  the  whole  world  was  shrouded 
in  darkness  j  the  remembrance  of  so  many  martyrs  whose 


George  Whiteficld.  239 


blood  once  bedewed  its  rocks  ;  the  deep  caverns  to  which 
they  resorted  for  the  purpose  of  reading  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, and  worshipping  the  eternal  God  in  spirit  and  in 
truth — the  sight  of  all  these  tends  to  elevate  the  soul,  and 
to  inspire  one  with  feelings  which  are  difficult  to  be  ex- 
pressed." 

The  P?'eacJiing  of  the  Rev.  George  Whitefield. 
"  In  London,  Whitefield  could  no  longer  be  content 
with  his  spacious  tabernacle,  but  took  again  the  open 
field.  The  most  riotous  scenes  at  Moorfields  were  usually 
during  the  Whitsun  holidays.  The  devils  then  held  their 
rendezvous  there,  he  said,  and  he  resolved  '  to  meet  them 
in  pitched  battle.^  He  began  early,  in  order  to  secure  the 
field  before  the  greatest  rush  of  the  crowd.  At  six  o'clock 
in  the  morning  he  found  ten  thousand  people  waiting  im- 
patiently for  the  sports  of  the  day.  Mounting  his  puipit, 
and  assured  that  he  *had  for  once  got  the  start  of  the 
devil,'  he  soon  drew  the  whole  multitude  around  him.  At 
noon  he  again  took  the  field.  Between  twenty  and  thirty 
thousand  swarmed  upon  it.  He  described  it  as  in  com- 
plete possession  of  Beelzebub,  whose  agents  were  in  full 
motion.  Drummers,  trumpeters,  merry-andrews,  masters 
of  puppet-shows,  exhibitors  of  wild  beasts,  players,  were 
all  busy  in  entertaining  their  respective  groups.  He 
shouted  his  text,  '  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,'  and 
boldly  charged  home  upon  the  vice  and  peril  of  their 
dissipations.  The  craftsmen  were  alarmed,  and  the  battle 
he  had  anticipated  and  challenged  now  fairly  began. 
Stones,  dirt,  rotten  eggs,  and  dead  cats  were  thrown  at 
him.  '  My  soul,'  he  says,  '  was  among  lions  /  but  before 
long   he   prevailed,   and   the    immense    multitude   were 


240  George  Whitefield. 


'  turned  into  lambs.'  At  six  in  the  evening  he  was  again 
in  his  field  pulpit.  *  I  came,'  he  says,  '  and  I  saw ;  but 
what  %  Thousands  and  thousands  more  than  before.'  He 
rightly  judged  that  Satan  could  not  brook  such  repeated 
assaults,  in  such  circumstances,  and  never,  perhaps,  had 
they  ^been  pushed  more  bravely  home  against  the  very 
citadel  of  his  power.  A  harlequin  was  exhibiting  and 
trumpeting  on  a  stage,  but  was  deserted  as  soon  as  the 
people  saw  Whitefield,  in  his  black  robes,  ascend  his  pul- 
pit. He  *  lifted  up  his  voice  like  a  trumpet,  and  many 
heard  the  joyful  sound.'  At  length  they  approached 
nearer,  and  the  merry-andrew,  attended  by  others,  who 
complained  that  they  had  taken  many  pounds  less  that 
day  on  account  of  the  preaching,  got  upon  a  man's 
shoulders,  and  advancing  toward  the  pulpit,  attempted 
several  times  to  strike  the  preacher  with  a  long,  heavy 
whip,  but  always  tumbled  down  by  the  violence  of  his 
motion.  The  mob  next  secured  the  aid  of  a  recruiting 
sergeant,  who,  with  music  and  straggling  followers,  marched 
directly  through  the  crowd  before  the  pulpit.  Whitefield 
knew  instinctively  how  to  manage  the  passions  and  whims 
of  the  people.  He  called  out  to  them  to  make  way  for 
the  king's  officer.  The  sergeant,  with  assumed  official 
dignity,  and  his  drum  and  fife,  passed  through  the  opened 
ranks,  which  closed  immediately  after  him,  and  left  the 
solid  mass  still  in  possession  of  the  preacher.  A  third 
onslaught  was  attempted.  Roaring  like  wild  beasts,  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  assembly,  a  large  number  combined 
for  the  purpose  of  sweeping  through  in  solid  column.. 
They  bore  a  long  pole  for  their  standard,  and  came  on 
with  the  sound  of  drum  and  menacing  shouts,  but  soon 
quarrelled  among  themselves,  threw  down  their  pole,  and 


George  Whitefield.  241 


dispersed,  leaving  many  of  their  number  behind,  '  who 
were  brought  over  to  join  the  besieged  party/  At  times, 
however,  the  tumult  rose  like  the  noise  of  many  waters, 
drowning  the  preacher's  voice.  He  would  then  call  upon 
his  brethren  near  him  to  unite  with  him  in  singing,  till  the 
clamorous  host  were  again  charmed  into  silence.  He  was 
determined  not  to  retreat  defeated ;  preaching,  praying, 
singing,  he  kept  his  ground  till  night  closed  the  strange 
scene.  It  was  one  of  the  greatest  of  his  field  days.  He 
had  won  the  victory,  and  moved  off  with  his  religious 
friends  to  celebrate  it  at  night  in  the  Tabernacle ;  and 
great  were  the  spoils  there  exhibited.  No  less  than  a 
thousand  notes  were  afterwards  handed  up  to  him  for 
prayers  from  persons  who  had  been  brought  '  under  con- 
viction '  that  day ;  and  soon  after  upwards  of  three  hun- 
dred were  received  into  the  society  at  one  time.  Many 
of  them  were  '  the  devil's  castaways,'  as  he  called  them." 
— Stevens'  History  of  Methodism. 

Dr  Franklin,  in  his  Memoirs,  bears  witness  to  the  ex- 
traordinary effect  which  was  produced  by  Mr  Whitefield's 
preaching  in  America,  and  relates  an  anecdote  equally 
characteristic  of  the  preacher  and  of  himself: — "I  hap- 
pened," says  the  doctor,  '*  to  attend  one  of  his  sermons,  in 
the  course  of  which,  I  perceived,  he  intended  to  finish 
with  a  collection,  and  I  silently  resolved  he  should  get 
nothing  from  me.  I  had  in  my  pocket  a  handful  of  cop- 
per money,  three  or  four  silver  dollars,  and  five  pistoles  in 
gold.  As  he  proceeded,  I  began  to  soften,  and  concluded 
to  give  the  copper.  Another  stroke  of  his  oratory  made 
me  ashamed  of  that,  and  determined  me  to  give  the  sil- 
ver; and  he  finished  so  admirably,  that  I  emptied  my 
pocket  wholly  into  the  collector's  dish,  gold  and  all.     At 

Q 


242  IVhitefield  a7id  Wesley  Compared. 

this  sermon  there  was  also  one  of  our  club,  who,  being  of 
my  sentiments  respecting  the  building  in  Georgia,  and 
suspecting  a  collection  might  be  intended,  had  by  precau- 
tion emptied  his  pockets  before  he  came  from  home.  To- 
wards the  conclusion  of  the  discourse,  however,  he  felt  a 
strong  inclination  to  give,  and  applied  to  a  neighbour 
who  stood  near  him  to  lend  him  some  money  for  the  pur- 
pose. The  request  was  fortunately  made  to,  perhaps,  the 
only  man  in  the  company  who  had  the  firmness  not  to  be 
affected  by  the  preacher.  His  answer  was,  *  At  any  other 
time,  friend  Hodgkinson,  I  would  lend  to  thee  freely ;  but 
not  now,  for  thee  seems  to  be  out  of  thy  right  senses.' " 

IVhitefield  and  Wesley  cojnpared. 

"  Why  was  it  that  Whitefield  had  such  power  over  the 
masses,  and  preached  the  gospel  with  such  success  % 
Because,  as  a  man  of  great  natural  force,  and  called  of 
God  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  he  conformed  to  the 
Master's  model.  He  had  clearness— a  clear  conception 
of  his  points,  arguments,  and  illustrations,  and  hence  pre- 
sented them  clearly.  He  had  earnestness — a  soul  of  fire, 
thrilled  with  '  the  burden  of  the  Lord '  to  perishing 
sinners,  and  the  tidings  of  mercy  for  stricken  hearts.  He 
had  naturalness.  He  used  to  say  that  he  talked  to  the 
people  in  their  '  market  language.'  He  had  literalness. 
He  brought  great  gospel  principles  to  light  through  literal 
facts  and  figures,  and  had  but  little  to  do  with  metaphysics 
in  the  pulpit.  He  wisely  adapted  the  truth  to  the  con- 
dition of  his  hearers. 

"  The  same  is  true  of  Wesley.  He  had  greater  clearness 
than  Whitefield,  equal  earnestness  of  soul,  though  less 
physical    force    and    vehemence    of  manner.     He   also 


Whitefidd  and  Wesley  Compared.  243 

possessed  an  equal  degree  of  naturalness  and  literalness. 
Wesley  used  many  literal  figures  of  illustration,  but  more 
literal  facts.  Metaphysical  abstractions  in  the  pulpit  were 
out  of  the  question  in  his  ministry.  His  wise  adaptation 
of  truth  to  the  occasion  and  circumstances  of  his  hearers 
was  a  leading  feature  of  his  preaching." — Taylors  ''Model 
Freacher'' 

A  shipbuilder  used  to  say  that  under  most  men's 
preaching  he  could  build  a  ship  from  her  keel  to  the  mast- 
head ;  but  under  that  of  Whitefield,  he  could  not  lay  a 
single  plank. 

Though  the  name  of  George  Whitefield  is  a  household 
word,  his  sermons  are  little  known  and  still  less  read. 
They  owed  much  to  his  inimitable  delivery.  The  follow- 
ing specimens  fairly  represent  his  method  : — 

When  he  was  preaching  from  the  text,  "  Wherefore 
glorify  ye  the  Lord  in  the  fires?"  Isa.  xxiv.  15,  he  said, 
*•'  When  I  was  some  years  ago  at  Shields,  I  went  into  a 
glass  house,  and  standing  very  attentively  I  saw  several 
masses  of  burning  glass  of  various  forms.  The  workiuan 
took  one  piece  of  glass  and  put  it  into  one  furnace,  then 
he  put  it  into  a  second,  then  into  a  third.  I  asked  him, 
*  Why  do  you  put  that  into  so  many  fires  % '  He  answered 
me,  '  O,  sir,  the  first  was  not  hot  enough,  nor  the  second, 
and  therefore  we  put  it  into  the  third,  and  that  will  make 
it  transparent.'  O,  thought  I,  does  this  man  put  this  glass 
into  one  furnace  after  another  that  it  may  be  rendered 
perfect  %  O  my  God,  put  me  into  one  furnace  after 
another,  that  my  soul  may  be  transparent,  that  I  may  see 
God  as  He  is." 


244  Whitefield's  Style. 


The  Kingdom  of  God. 

"  For  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink  ;  but  righteous- 
ness, and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. — Rom.  xiv.  17," 

^-^  ^  ^^  %  ¥r 

"  Here,  then,  we  will  put  the  kingdom  of  God  together. 
It  is  'righteousness,'  it  is  'peace.'  it  is  'joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost'  When  this  is  placed  in  the  heart,  God  there 
reigns,  God  there  dwells  and  walks — the  creature  is  a  son 
or  daughter  of  the  Almighty.  But,  my  friends,  how  few  are 
there  here  who  have  been  partakers  of  this  kingdom  !  Have 
you  so  ?  Then  you  are  kings,  though  beggars ;  you  are 
happy  above  all  men  in  the  world — you  have  got  heaven 
in  your  hearts  ;  and  when  the  crust  of  your  bodies  drops, 
your  souls  will  meet  with  God,  your  souls  will  enter  into 
the  world  of  peace,  and  you  shall  be  happy  with  God  for 
evermore.  I  hope  that  there  is  none  of  you  who  will  fear 
death  ;  fie  for  shame,  if  ye  do  !  What,  afraid  to  go  to  Jesus, 
to  your  Lord  ?  You  may  cry  out,  '  O  death,  where  is  thy 
sting  ]  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  1 '  You  may  go  on 
your  way  rejoicing,  knowing  that  God  is  your  friend  ;  die 
when  you  will,  angels  will  carry  you  safe  to  heaven. 

"  But,  O,  how  many  are  here  in  this  churchyard,  who 
will  be  laid  in  some  grave  ere  long,  who  are  entire  strangers 
to  this  work  of  God  upon  their  souls  !  My  dear  friends, 
I  think  this  is  an  awful  sight.  Here  are  many  thousands 
of  souls  that  must  shortly  appear  with  me,  a  poor  creature, 
in  the  general  assembly  of  all  mankind  before  God  in 
judgment.  God  Almighty  knows  whether  some  of  you 
may  not  drop  down  dead  before  you  go  out  of  the  church- 
yard ;  and  yet,  perhaps  most  are  strangers  to  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  in  their  hearts.     Perhaps  curiosity  has  brought 


WhitefiehVs  Style.  245 


you  to  hear  a  poor  babbler  preach.  But,  my  friends,  I 
hope  I  came  out  of  a  better  principle.  If  I  know  any- 
thing of  my  heart,  I  came  to  promote  God's  glory,  and  if 
the  Lord  should  make  use  of  such  a  worthless  worm,  such 
a  wretched  creature,  as  I  am,  to  do  your  precious  souls 
good,  nothing  would  rejoice  me  more  ! 

¥:  ^  *  *  * 

"  Christ  is  willing  to  come  into  any  of  your  hearts  that 
will  be  pleased  to  open  and  receive  Him.  Are  there  any 
of  you  made  willing  Lydias  %  There  are  many  women 
here,  but  how  many  Lydias  are  there  here  %  Does  power 
go  with  the  word  to  open  your  heart?  and  find  you  a  sweet 
melting  in  your  soul?  Are  you  willing?  Then  Christ 
Jesus  is  wilhng  to  come  to  you.  But  you  may  say,  Will 
Christ  come  to  my  wicked,  polluted  heart?  Yes,  though 
you  have  many  devils  in  your  heart,  Christ  will  come  and 
erect  His  throne  there  ;  though  the  devils  be  in  your  heart, 
the  Lord  Jesus  will  scourge  out  a  legion  of  devils,  and  His 
throne  shall  be  exalted  in  thy  soul.  Sinners,  be  ye  what 
you  will,  come  to  Christ,  you  snail  have  righteousness  and 
peace.  It  you  have  no  peace,  come  to  Christ,  and  He  will 
give  you  peace.  When  you  come  to  Christ,  you  will  feel 
such  joy  that  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  tell.  O,  may  God 
pity  you  all !  I  hope  this  will  be  a  night  of  salvation  to 
some  of  your  souls. 

"  My  dear  friends,  I  would  preach  with  all  my  heart  till 
midnight,  to  do  you  good,  till  I  could  preach  no  more. 
O,  that  this  body  might  hold  out  to  speak  more  for  my 
dear  Redeemer  !  Had  I  a  thousand  lives,  had  I  a  thou- 
sand tongues,  they  should  be  employed  in  inviting  sinners 
to  come  to  Jesus  Christ !  Come  then,  let  me  prevail  with 
some  of  you  to  come  along  with  me.     Come,  poor,  lost,. 


246  Wesley  Denounces  ReJ>rohation. 

undone  sinner,  come  just  as  you  are  to  Christ,  and  say,  If 
I  be  damned,  I  will  perish  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  where 
never  one  perished." 

vf  *  *  *  *  * 

John  Wesley's  Life  and  Sermons  are  well  known.  Dr 
Southey,  a  most  competent  judge,  considers  the  following 
magnificent  paragraph,  "  one  of  the  finest  examples  of  im- 
passioned eloquence  in  the  Enghsh  language  :" — 

*'  This  doctrine,"  Mr  Wesley  says,  "  represents  our 
blessed  Lord,  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous,  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth,  as  a  hypocrite, 
a  deceiver  of  the  people,  a  man  void  of  common  sincerity  ; 
for  it  cannot  be  denied  that  He  everywhere  speaks  as  if 
He  were  willing  that  all  men  should  be  saved.  You 
represent  Him  as  mocking  His  helpless  creatures,  by 
offering  what  He  never  intends  to  give.  You  describe  Him 
as  saying  one  thing  and  meaning  another;  as  pretending 
the  love  which  He  had  not.  Him  in  whose  mouth  was 
no  guile,  you  make  full  of  deceit,  void  of  common  sin- 
cerity. When  nigh  the  city.  He  wept  over  it,  and  said, 
*  Oh,  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  thou  that  killest  the  prophets, 
and  stonest  them  that  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often  would 
I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  and  ye  would  not !' 
Now,  if  you  say  they  would,  but  He  would  not,  you  repre- 
sent Him — which,  who  could  hear? — as  weeping  croco- 
dile's tears,  weeping  over  the  prey  which  Himself  had 
doomed  to  destruction.  Oh,  how  would  the  enemy  of 
God  and  man  rejoice  to  hear  these  things  were  so  !  How 
would  he  cry  aloud  and  spare  not !  How  would  he 
lift  up  his  voice  and  say,  '  To  your  tents,  O  Israel ! 
Flee  from  the  face  of  this  God  or  ye  shall  utterly 
perish  !'" 


Wesley  071  Freachmg.  247 


It  may  be  fairly  questioned  whether  the  following  is  not 
more  remarkable  for  simplicity  and  terseness  :— 

Preaching. 
"  To  candid,  reasonable  men,  I  am  not  afraid  to  lay  open 
what  have  been  the  inmost  thoughts  of  my  heart.  I  have 
thought,  I  am  a  creature  of  a  day,  passing  through  life  as 
an  arrow  through  the  air.  I  am  a  spirit  come  from  God, 
and  returning  to  God.  Just  hovering  over  the  great  gulf ; 
till,  a  few  moments  hence,  I  am  no  more  seen ;  I  drop 
into  an  unchangeable  eternity  !  I  want  to  know  one  thing, 
the  way  to  heaven  ;  how  to  land  safe  on  that  happy  shore. 
God  himself  has  condescended  to  teach  the  way.  For 
this  very  end  He  came  from  heaven.  He  hath  written  it 
down  in  a  book.  O  give  me  that  book  !  At  any  price, 
give  me  the  book  of  God  !  I  have  it.  Here  is  knowledge 
enough  for  me.  Let  me  be  homo  unms  libri.  Here,  then, 
I  am,  far  from  the  busy  ways  of  men.  I  sit  down  alone. 
Only  God  is  here.  In  His  presence  I  open,  I  read  His 
book ;  for  this  end,  to  find  the  way  to  heaven.  Is  there 
a  doubt  concerning  the  meaning  of  what  I  read  ]  Does 
anything  appear  dark  or  intricate  %  I  lift  up  my  heart  to 
the  Father  of  Lights — '  Lord,  is  it  not  thy  word,  *  If  any 
man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God]'  Thou  'givest 
liberally,  and  upbraideth  not.'  Thou  hast  said,  '  If  any 
be  wilUng  to  do  thy  will,  he  shall  know.'  I  am  willing  to 
do,  let  me  know  thy  will.'  I  then  search  after  and  con- 
sider parallel  passages  of  scripture,  '  comparing  spiritual 
things  with  spiritual.'  I  meditate  thereon  with  all  the 
attention  and  earnestness  of  which  my  mind  is  capable. 
If  any  doubt  still  remains,  I  consult  those  who  are  ex- 
perienced in  the  things  of  God ;  and  then  the  writings 


248  Anecdote  of  Whitefield. 

whereby,  being  dead,  they  yet  speak.  And  what  I  thus 
learn,  that  I  teach." 

When  Mr  Whitefield  was  in  Scotland,  the  Seceders 
vainly  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  to  preach  only  for 
them.  "Why  should  I  preach  only  for  you  V  said  Mr  W. 
*'  Because,"  replied  Mr  Ralph  Erskine,  "  we  are  the  Lord's 
people."  "  But,"  rejoined  Mr  W.,  "  has  the  Lord  no  other 
people  than  yourselves  ?  And  supposing  that  all  others 
were  the  devil's  people,  have  they  not  so  much  the  more 
need  to  be  preached  to,  and  shall  I  say  nothing  to  them?" 
Having  thus  failed  in  their  attempt,  it  is  confidently  stated 
by  contemporary  authorities  that  some  of  the  more  in- 
tolerant of  the  Seceders  then  charitably  represented  Mr 
Whitefield  as  the  agent  of  the  devil. 

This  anecdote  may  remind  us  of  another  told  of  the 
celebrated  Robert  Hall : — "  A  member  of  his  flock,  pre- 
suming on  his  weight  and  influence  in  the  congregation, 
called  upon  him  and  took  him  to  task  for  not  more 
frequently  or  more  fully  preaching  Fredesti?iation,  which 
he  hoped  would  in  future  be  more  referred  to.  Hall,  the 
most  moderate  and  cautious  of  men  on  this  dark  question, 
was  very  indignant ;  he  looked  steadily  at  his  censor  for  a 
time,  and  replied  :  "  Sir,  I  perceive  that  yott  are  predes- 
tinated to  be  an  ass  ;  and  what  is  more,  I  see  that  you  are 
determined  to  'make  your  calling  and  election  sure  !'" 

The  celebrated  Lord  Chesterfield  is  said  to  have  once 
wandered  into  Tottenham  Court  Road  Chapel.  It  is  not 
generally  known  that  this  building  was  enlarged  partly 
at  the  expense  of  Caroline,  the  Queen  of  George  II.,  who, 
passing  by  in  her  carriage  during  a  heavy  thunderstorm, 
saw  crowds  in  the  yard  unable  to  enter.  Was  this  the 
part  once  called  the  oveuy  from  its  great  heat  and  low  roof  ? 


Lord  Chesterfield  and  Whitefield.  249 

Wliitefield  was  preaching,  and  Lord  Chesterfield  was  con- 
ducted into  Lady  Huntingdon's  pew.  He  Ustened  with 
close  attention  while  Whitefield  compared  a  benighted 
sinner  to  a  blind  man  on  a  path  fi.ill  of  danger :  his  dog 
escaping  firom  him  on  the  verge  of  a  precipice,  the  old 
man  has  nothing  but  his  stick  to  guide  him  :  on  the  edge 
of  the  cliff,  he  drops  it,  and  it  falls  down  the  abyss.  Not 
knowing  his  danger,  the  beggar  endeavours  to  pick  it  up, 
and  missing  his  footing — "  Good  God  !  he  is  gone  ! '' 
shouted  Chesterfield,  leaping  from  his  seat  in  order  to 
rescue  him  from  his  perilous  position. 

HEATING  APPARATUS  IN  CHURCHES. 

John  Wesley,  as  a  rule,  did  not  allow  fires  in  his 
chapels.  He  thought  that  if  they  were  crowded  with  de- 
votional people,  there  would  be  warmth  enough  in  the 
building.  A  young  clergyman  was  one  day  asked  by  his 
congregation  to  allow  a  stove  to  be  placed  in  the  church. 
He  replied,  *'  I  am  surprised  that  you  did  not  make  a 
-similar  request  to  my  predecessor.^'  "  Ah !  sir,"  they  re- 
joined, "the  case  was  different  then,  and  there  was  a  good 
fire  in  the  pulpit." 

MATTHEW  WILKS 

Was  for  many  years  one  of  the  successors  of  the  Reverend 
George  Whitefield  at  the  Tabernacle,  Moorfields.  He 
was  odd  and  eccentric,  but  highly  esteemed.  He  used  to 
quote  proverbs,  fables,  and  anecdotes  in  his  sermons  with 
very  happy  effect.  On  one  occasion  he  gave  out  the  text, 
*'Walk  circumspectly,"  adding,  "like  a  cat  upon  a  wall 
covered  with  broken  glass  bottles."  A  friend  from  the  ■ 
United  States  once  called  upon  him ;  Mr  Wilks  received 


250  Mattheiv  VVilks—John  Strange. 


him  with  courtesy,  and  entered  into  conversation,  which 
was  kept  up  briskly  till  the  most  important  religious 
intelligence  in  possession  of  each  had  been  imparted. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  pause — it  was  broken  by  Mr  Wilks. 
"Have  you  anything  more  to  communicate  1"  "No, 
nothing  of  special  interest/'  *'Any  further  inquiries  to 
make  ? "  "  None/^  "  Then  you  must  leave  me  ;  I  have 
my  Master's  business  to  attend  to  —  good-morning." 
*'  Here,"  says  the  minister,  "  I  received  a  lesson  on  the 
impropriety  of  intrusion,  and  on  the  most  manly  method 
of  preventing  it." 

JOHN  STRANGE, 

An  old  American  Methodist  preacher,  was  of  the  "Boaner- 
ges "  type.  His  ministrations  were  full  of  striking,  telling 
episodes  and  overwhelming  bursts  of  surprise  power. 
Brother  S.,  an  old  presiding  elder  in  Indiana,  relates — 
"When  I  was  an  irreligious  young  man,  I  went,  in 
company  with  a  lot  of  wicked  young  men,  to  a  camp 
meeting.  We  entered  within  the  circle  of  the  tents  while 
John  Strange  was  preaching,  and  as  we  passed  down  the 
aisle  John  paused,  and  straightening  up  his  taM  form  to 
its  utmost  height,  looking  right  at  us,  he  cried,  '  Here  they 
come  !  Lord  God,  shoot  them  !  Load  and  fire  again  ! ' 
Every  hunter  present  understood  that.  I  felt,"  said 
Brother  S.,  "something  like  a  sharp  pain  strike  right 
through  my  body,  and  for  a  moment  thought  I  was  shot, 
and  every  one  of  us  dropped  down  almost  as  suddenly  as 
if  we  had  been  shot."  It  was  very  common  under  the 
preaching  of  Strange  for  men  to  fall  prostrate  like  men 
shot  down  with  a  Minid  rifle. 


John  Collins.  251 


JOHN  COLLINS 

Possessed  an  equal  degree  of  naturamess  and  literalness 
with  Strange,  but  of  a  milder  type ;  he  was  more  "  a  son 
of  consolation."  Rev.  J.  B.  Finley  bears  the  following 
testimony  of  him  : — "  No  preacher  had  the  power  of  rous- 
ing the  masses,  and  holding  them  by  his  eloquence  and 
power,  to  so  great  an  extent  as  the  meek  and  sainted 
Collins.  Often  have  we  heard  him  relate  the  story  ot 
the  lost  child,  describing  with  inimitable  tenderness  the 
feehngs  of  the  mother,  whom  he  tried  to  comfort,  but 
who,  like  Rachel,  '  would  not  be  comforted,  because  her 
child  was  not,'  and  then,  when  the  child  was  found,  with 
the  utmost  pathos  would  relate  the  joyous  emotions  of 
the  mother.  No  tragedian  ever  succeeded  better  in  trans- 
ferring the  feelings  of  a  character  to  his  audience  in  his 
impersonations  than  did  the  inimitable  Collins.  So  far 
was  he  from  falling  under  the  charge  made  by  a  tragedian 
to  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  of  representing  fact  as  if  it 
were  fiction,  that  he  became  the  living  embodiment  of  his 
theme,  and,  with  a  soul  on  fire,  he  poured  out  the  living 
truth  till  every  heart  was  moved.  Often  have  we  seen 
thousands  borne  down  by  his  impassioned  eloquence, 
like  the  trees  of  the  forest  in  a  storm.  And  it  was  irre- 
sistible. Steel  your  heart  as  you  might;  summon  all 
your  philosophy  and  stoicism  ;  and  nerve  up  your  soul  to 
an  iron  insensibihty  and  endurance,  surrounding  it  with 
a  rampart  of  the  strongest  prejudices,  the  lightning  of  his 
eloquence,  accompanied  by  the  deep-toned,  awfully  sub- 
lime thunder  of  his  words,  which  came  burning  from  his 
soul,  would  melt  down  your  hardness,  and  break  away 
every  fortification  in  which  you  were  intrenched,  while 


252  Valentine  Cook. 


tears  from  the  deep,  unsealed  fountains  of  your  soul 
would  come  unbidden  like  rain.  The  only  way  to  escape 
his  power  was  to  flee  from  his  presence  and  hearing." — 
Sketches  of  Western  Met/iodisfn,  {American^) 

VALENTINE  COOK 

Combined  in  a  good  degree  all  the  elements  of  a  good 
preacher.  A  glance  at  his  literalness  may  be  seen  in  the 
following  extract  from  Morris's  Miscellany  : 

"  Cook,  as  a  preacher,  was  altogether  above  the  medium 
grade.  His  pulpit  performances  were  marked  for  ap- 
propriateness, variety,  fluency  and  extraordinary  force. 
While  Cook  was  remarkable  for  solemnity,  both  of 
appearance  and  deportment,  there  was  in  his  natural 
composition  a  spice  01  eccentricity,  sufficient  to  attract 
attention,  but  not  to  destroy  his  ministerial  mfluence. 
On  one  occasion  he  commenced  his  public  discourse — in 
a  country  place — thus  :  '  As  I  was  riding  along  the  road 
to-day,  I  saw  a  man  walk  out  into  his  field  with  a  yoke 
under  his  arm ;  by  the  motion  of  his  stick,  he  brought  up 
two  bullocks,  and  placed  the  yoke  upon  them.  At 
another  place  I  saw  an  ass  standing  by  a  corn-crib,  wait- 
ing for  his  daily  provender.'  Then  he  read  for  his  text, 
'  The  ox  knoweth  his  owner,  and  the  ass  his  master's 
Glib ;  but  Israel  doth  not  know,  my  people  doth  not  con- 
sider.' He  was  a  ready  man,  had  a  fruitful  mind,  and,  no 
doubt,  what  he  had  seen  on  the  way  suggested  the  sub- 
ject of  his  discourse." 

The  Experiences  of  a  Plagiarist. 
One  of  the   most  popular  pulpit  orators   in   Indiana 


Plagiarisfu  and  Plagiarists.  253 

(United  States  of  America)  gave  a  friend  his  experi- 
ence, a  few  days  since,  in  regard  to  plagiarism.  "  Having 
to  preach  on  one  occasion,"  said  he,  "  soon  after  I  entered 
the  ministry,  in  a  large  town,  where  I  supposed  I  would 
have  in  my  audience  a  great  many  learned  critics,  I  was 
afraid  to  risk  one  of  my  own  productions,  and  hence 
selected  and  committed  to  memory  one  of  the  best  pub- 
lished sermons  I  could  find.  It  was  a  masterpiece,  and  I 
thought  I  might  make  it  do  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  fixed 
it  indelibly  upon  my  mind.  I  never  thought  of  the  impro- 
priety of  such  a  thing  till  I  got  into  the  pulpit,  when  it 
struck  me  that  I  had  stolen  another  man's  sermon,  and 
was  about  to  pass  it  as  my  own,  and  something  seemed  to 
say  to  me,  '  Thief,  thief !  steal  a  sermon  and  pass  it  hypo- 
critically as  your  own.  Hypocrite,  hypocrite,  you  need 
not  think  to  escape  detection.  Many  of  these  intelligent 
men  have  read  that  sermon,  and  will  expose  you  all  over 
town  before  the  setting  of  the  sun.  Thief,  thief!  hypo- 
crite, hypocrite  ! '  It  appeared  to  me  that  the  devil  was 
let  loose  to  torment  me,  for  '  thief,  thief,'  rang  in  my  ear 
till  my  hair  seemed  to  rise  on  my  head,  and  the  perspira- 
tion rolled  off  me.  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do.  The 
hour  for  preaching  had  come,  and  I  had  no  other  sermon 
available.  So  I  got  up  in  that  sad  plight,  and  repeated 
the  stolen  sermon  as  best  I  could.  As  I  came  down  from 
the  pulpit,  the  accuser  assailed  me  again,  sa)dng,  '  Thief, 
thief,  you'll  be  found  out.  These  men  are  looking  on 
you  with  contempt  now.'  I  hastened  out  of  sight,  and 
cried  to  God  with  the  anguish  of  a  condemned  criminal, 
and  said,  '  O  Lord  God,  pity  me.  For  Christ's  sake,  for- 
give me.  By  thy  grace  I  will  never  attempt  such  a  thing 
again  as  long  as  I  live.     Let  those  men  tell  it;  let  theai 


2  54  Conversion  of  an  American  Infidel. 


publish  my  shame  to  the  world.  I  will  tell  it  myself,  and 
confess  my  guilt  to  God  and  to  men,  and  solemnly  pro- 
mise never  to  be  guilty  of  the  like  again  while  God  gives 
me  breath.' " 

Conversion  of  an  American  Infidel. 

It  is  said  that  a  celebrated  minister  prepared  and 
preached  a  course  of  sermons  against  infidelity  for  the 
purpose  specially  of  convincing  and  bringing  over  to 
Christianity  an  intelligent  infidel  neighbour,  who  was  a 
regular  attendant  at  his  church.  Just  after  the  close  of 
the  series,  the  infidel  professed  to  be  converted,  and  the 
preacher  was  anxious  to  know  which  of  his  sermons  had 
produced  such  a  good  effect. 

Soon  after,  the  new  convert,  in  relating  his  experience, 
said  :  "  The  instrument  God  was  pleased  to  use  for  my 
awakening  and  conversion  was  not  the  preaching  of  those 
sermons  against  infidelity,  but  the  simple  remark  of  a  poor 
old  coloured  woman.  In  going  down  the  steps  of  the 
church  one  night,  seeing  that  the  old  woman  was  lame,  I 
gave  her  my  hand,  and  assisted  her.  She  looked  up  at 
me  with  a  peculiar  expression  of  grateful  pleasure,  saying, 
*■  Thank  you,  sir.  Do  you  love  Jesus,  my  blessed  Sav- 
iour?' I  was  dumb.  I  could  not  answer  that  question. 
She  said  *  Jesus,  my  blessed  Saviour,'  with  so  much 
earnest  confidence,  that  I  could  not  deny  that  she  had  a 
blessed  Saviour,  and  felt  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  did 
not  love  Him.  I  could  not  dismiss  the  subject  from  my 
mind,  and  the  more  I  thought  of  it  the  clearer  my  con- 
victions became  that  the  old  coloured  sister  had  a  Jesus, 
a  blessed  Saviour ;  and  I  thought  of  how  kind  a  Saviour 
He  must  be  to  impart  such  joy  and  comfort  to  such  poor, 


James  Axley, 


neglected  creatures  as  she  was;  and  I  soon  began  to  weep 
over  my  base  ingratitude  in  despising  such  a  Saviour." 

JAMES  AXLEY, 

Familiarly  called  "  Old  Jemmy,"  was  a  renowned  and  re- 
doubtable preacher  of  East  Tennessee.  The  following 
is  an  account  of  a  sermon  which  he  addressed  to  a  rough 
backwoods'  congregation.  The  narrator  was  Hugh  L. 
White,  a  judge  of  that  State,  and  afterwards  a  leading 
member  of  the  American  Federal  Senate  : — • 

It  was  noised  through  the  town  of  Jonesborough  that 
Mr  Axley  would  hold  forth  on  the  morning  of  the  ensuing 
Sabbath.  The  famous  divine  was  a  great  favourite — with 
none  more  than  with  Judge  White.  At  the  appointed 
hour  the  judge,  in  company  with  a  large  congregation, 
was  in  attendance  at  the  house  of  prayer.  All  were 
hushed  in  expectation.  Mr  Axley  entered,  but  with  a  cleri- 
cal brother,  who  was  '  put  up  '  to  preach.  The  congrega- 
tion was  composed  of  a  border  population  ;  they  were  dis- 
appointed ;  this  was  not  the  man  they  had  come  to  hear, 
consequently  there  was  a  good  deal  of  misbehaviour.  The 
discourse  was  ended,  and  Mr  Axley  rose.  It  is  a  custom 
in  the  new  country  when  two  or  more  preachers  are  pre- 
sent, for  each  of  them  to  have  something  to  say.  The 
people  opine  that  it  is  a  great  waste  of  time  to  come  a 
long  distance  and  be  put  off  with  a  short  service.  I  have 
gone  into  church  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
have  not  come  out  again  until  live  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. Short  administrations  are  the  growth  of  thicker 
settlements. 

Mr  Axley  stood  silently  surveying  the  congregation 
until  every  one  was  riveted.     He  then  began  : — 


256  James  Axicy. 


"  It  may  be  a  very  painful  duty,  but  it  is  a  very  solemn 
one,  for  a  minister  of  the  gospel  to  reprove  vice^  miscon- 
duct, and  sin,  whenever  and  wherever  he  sees  it.  But 
especially  is  this  his  duty  on  Sunday  and  at  church.  That 
is  a  duty  I  am  now  about  to  attend  to. 

"And  now,"  continued  the  reverend  speaker,  point- 
ing with  his  long  finger  in  the  direction  indicated, 
*'  that  man  sitting  out  yonder  behind  the  door,  who  got 
up  and  w^ent  out  while  the  brother  was  preaching,  stayed 
out  as  long  as  he  wanted  to,  got  his  boots  full  of  mud, 
came  back  and  stamped  the  mud  off  at  the  door,  mak- 
ing all  the  noise  he  could,  on  purpose  to  disturb  the 
attention  of  the  congregation,  and  then  took  his  seat; 
that  man  thinks  I  mean  him.  No  wonder  he  does. 
It  doesn't  look  as  if  he  had  been  raised  in  the  white 
settlements,  does  it,  to  behave  that  way  at  meeting  % 
Now,  my  friend,  I  'd  advise  you  to  learn  better  manners 
before  you  come  to  church  next  time. — But  I  don't  memi 
him. 

"And  now,"  again  pointing  at  his  mark,  "  that  little  girl 
sitting  there,  about  half-way  of  the  house — I  should  judge 
her  to  be  about  sixteen  years  old — that's  her  with  the 
artificial  flowers  on  the  outside  of  her  bonnet  and  the  in- 
side of  her  bonnet ;  she  has  a  breast-pin  on,  too,  (they 
were  very  severe  upon  all  superfluities  of  dress,)  she  that 
was  giggling  and  chattering  all  the  time  the  brother  was 
preaching,  so  that  even  the  old  sisters  in  the  neighbour- 
hood couldn't  hear  what  he  was  saying,  though  they  tried 
to.  She  thinks  I  mean  her.  I  'm  sorry  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart  for  any  parents  that  have  raised  a  girl  to  her 
time  of  day,  and  haven't  taught  her  how  to  behave  when 
she  comes  to  church.    Little  girl,  you  have  disgraced  your 


His  Po  IV er  of  Rebuke.  257 


parents  as  well  as  yourself.  Behave  better  next  time, 
wont  you  % — But  I  don't  mean  her  J' 

Directing  his  finger  to  another  aim,  he  said,  "  That 
man  sitting  there,  that  looks  as  bright  and  pert  as  if  he 
never  was  asleep  in  his  life,  and  never  expected  to  be, 
but  that,  just  as  soon  as  the  brother  took  his  text,  laid  his 
head  down  on  the  back  of  the  seat  in  front  of  him,  went 
sound  asleep,  slept  the  whole  time,  and  snored  ;  that  man 
thinks  I  mean  him.  My  friend,  don't  you  know  the 
church  ain't  the  place  to  sleep  ?  If  you  needed  rest,  why 
didn't  you  stay  at  home,  take  off  your  clothes,  and  go  to 
bed?  that's  the  place  to  sleep,  not  church.  The  next 
time  you  have  a  chance  to  hear  a  sermon,  I  advise  you  to 
keep  awake. — But  I  don't  mean  him ^  Thus  did  he  pro- 
ceed, pointing  out  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  who  had 
in  the  slightest  deviated  from  a  befitting  line  of  conduct ; 
characterising  the  misdemeanour,  and  reading  sharp  les- 
sons of  rebuke. 

Judge  White  was  all  this  time  sitting  at  the  end  of  the 
front  seat,  just  under  the  speaker,  enjoying  the  old  gentle- 
man's disquisition  to  the  last  degree  ;  twisting  his  neck 
around,  to  note  if  the  audience  relished  the  "  down-com- 
ings "  as  much  as  he  did  ;  rubbing  his  hands,  smiling, 
chuckling  inwardly.  Between  his  teeth  and  cheek  was  a 
monstrous  quid  of  tobacco,  which,  the  better  he  was 
pleased,  the  more  he  chewed ;  the  more  he  chewed,  the 
more  he  spat ;  and  behold,  the  floor  bore  witness  to 
the  results.  At  length,  the  old  gentleman,  straighten- 
ing himself  up  to  his  full  height,  continued,  with  great 
gravity  : — 

"  And  now  I  reckon  you  want  to  know  who  I  do 
mean.     I  mean  that  dirty,  nasty,  filthy,  tobacco-chewer, 


258  Jacob  Kruher. 


sitting  on  the  end  of  that  front  seat " — his  finger,  mean- 
while, pointing  true  as  the  needle  to  the  pole — "  See  what 
he  has  been  about !  Look  at  those  puddles  on  the  floor  \ 
a  frog  wouldn't  get  into  them ;  think  of  the  tails  of  the 
sisters'  dresses  being  dragged  through  that  muck." 

The  crest-fallen  judge  averred  that  he  never  chewed  any- 
more tobacco  in  church. 

JACOB  KRUBER 

Was  one  of  the  vehement,  energetic,  rough  Americans,  who 
denounced  with  all  their  hearts  polite  and  fashionable 
preachers,  who  diluted  the  facts  and  doctrines  of  the  New 
Testament  into  mere  empty  truisms.  Thus  did  he  satirise 
them  : — 

He  chose  for  his  subject  the  conversion  of  Saul  ot 
Tarsus.  Ananias,  who  resided  at  Damascus,  was  made  to 
represent  the  velvet-lipped  modern  preacher.  He  thus 
introduced  the  subject  :  "  A  great  many  years  ago,  a  bold 
blasphemer  was  smitten  by  conviction  when  he  was  on  his 
way  to  Damascus  to  persecute  the  Christians.  He  was 
taken  to  Damascus  in  great  distress.  Ananias,  after  hear- 
ing of  the  concern  of  mind  under  which  Saul  was  labour- 
ing, started  out  to  find  him.  It  seems  that  he  was  stopping 
at  the  house  of  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Judas,  not 
Judas  Iscariot,  for  that  person  had  been  dead  several 
years.  The  residence  of  this  gentleman  was  in  the  street 
which  was  called  Strait.  I  suppose  it  was  the  main  street, 
or  Broadway  of  the  city,  and  lience  it  was  not  difficult  to 
find.  Arriving  at  the  mansion,  he  rang  the  bell,  and  soon 
a  servant  made  her  appearance.  He  addressed  her  thus  : 
*  Is  the  gentleman  of  the  house,  Mr  Judas,  within  V  '  Yes, 
sir,'  responded  the  servant,  '  he  is  at  home.'     Taking  out 


Polite  Preaching.  259 


a  glazed,  gilt-edged  card,  on  which  was  printed  Rev.  Mr 
Ananias,  he  handed  it  to  the  servant,  and  said,  '  Take  this 
card  to  him  quickly.'  Taking  a  seat,  with  his  hat,  cane, 
and  gloves  in  his  left  hand,  his  right  being  employed  in 
arranging  his  classical  curls,  so  as  to  present  as  much  of 
an  intellectual  air  as  possible,  he  awaited  an  answer. 
Presently  Mr  Judas  makes  his  appearance,  whereupon  Mr 
Ananias  rises,  and  making  a  graceful  bow,  says — '  Have  I 
the  honour  to  address  Mr  Judas,  the  gentleman  of  the 
house!'  'That  is  my  name,  sir;  please  be  seated.'  *I 
have  called,  Mr  Judas,  to  inquire  if  a  gentleman  by  the 
name  of  Mr  Saul,  a  legate  of  the  high  priest  at  Jerusalem, 
is  a  guest  at  your  house.'  '  Yes,  sir ;  Mr  Saul  is  in  his 
chamber,  in  very  great  distress  and  trouble  of  mind.  He 
was  brought  here  yesterday,  having  fallen  from  his  horse  a 
few  miles  from  the  city  on  the  Jerusalem  road.'  '  Oh  !  I 
am  very  sorry  to  hear  of  so  painful  an  accident.  I  hope 
he  is  not  dangerously  wounded.'  '  No,  sir,  I  think  not, 
though  the  fall  has  affected  his  sight  very  much,  and  he 
complains  considerably,  and  prays  a  good  deal.  '  Well,  I 
am  very  sorry ;  but  that  is  not  very  strange,  as  I  believe 
he  belongs  to  that  sect  of  the  Jews  called  Pharisees,  who 
make  much  of  praying.  How  long  since  he  received  this 
fall,  Mr  Judas?'  'About  three  days  since,  and  all  the 
time  he  has  not  taken  any  refreshment  or  rest.'  '  Indeed  ! 
you  don't  say  so !  he  must  be  seriously  hurt.  May  I  be 
permitted  to  see  Mr  Saul  ?'  '  I  will  ascertain  his  pleasure, 
Mr  Ananias,  and  let  you  know  if  you  can  have  an  inter- 
view.' After  being  gone  a  short  time  Mr  Judas  returns, 
and  says,  '  Mr  Saul  will  be  much  pleased  to  see  you.' 
When  he  is  ushered  into  his  presence,  Saul  is  reclining  on 
his  couch  in   a  room  partially  darkened.     Approaching 


26o  American  Pulpit  Pungencies. 

him,  Ananias  says,  '  How  do  you  do,  Mr  Saul  ?  I  under- 
stood you  had  done  our  city  the  honour  of  a  visit.  Hope 
you  had  a  pleasant  journey.  How  did  you  leave  all  the 
friends  at  Jerusalem  %  How  did  you  leave  the  high  priest  % 
We  have  very  fine  weather,  Mr  Saul.  I  thought  I  would 
call  and  pay  my  respects  to  you,  as  I  was  anxious  to  have 
some  conversation  with  you  on  theological  subjects.  I  am 
extremely  sorry  to  hear  of  the  accident  that  happened  to 
you  in  visiting  our  city,  and  hope  you  v/ill  soon  recover 
from  your  indisposition.'" 

AMERICAN    PULPIT    PUNGENCIES. 

A  volume  has  been  recently  published  in  New  York 
bearing  this  title.  It  contains  anonymous  extracts  from 
sermons,  and  gives  one  a  good  impression  of  the  epigram- 
matic and  cynical  style  adopted  by  many  American 
preachers.  The  following  extracts  will  give  some  notion 
of  the  book  : — 

He  never  Blacked  his  Boots  072  Sunday. 

"  There  is  a  man  who  goes  to  the  judgment,  and  claims 
to  have  been  a  man  of  unexceptional  piety.  He  bears 
witness  that  he  never  violated  the  Sabbath-day  ;  that  he 
never  spoke  loud  or  laughed  on  Sunday;  that  he  never 
did  any  secular  work  on  Sunday  ;  that  he  never  blacked 
his  boots,  or  shaved,  or  cooked  on  Sunday ,  that  he  never 
rode  in  the  cars  or  the  boats  on  Sunday.  He  was  always 
very  scrupulous  about  what  he  did  on  Sunday.  On  any 
other  day  he  would  not  hesitate  to  take  advantage  of  his 
fellow-men  ;  he  would  not  hesitate  to  gouge  the  poor 
woman  that  put  his  carpet  down  ;  he  would  not  hesitate 


A})icrican  Pulpit  Pungencies.  261 

to  cheat  his  customers  ;  but,  then,  he  kept  Sunday." — 
Evening  Sermoji,  December  11,  1859. 

Men  like  Beasts  in  Menageries. 
"  Men,  when  quiet,  are  Hke  beasts  in  menageries. 
When  full-fed,  they  lie  down  and  stretch  themselves,  and 
sleep.  The  tiger  and  the  lion,  full-fed  and  sleepy,  are  as 
quiet  as  lambs  :  not  so,  when  they  are  hungry ;  not  so,  when 
they  are  roused.  Men,  in  days  of  prosperity,  when  their 
feelings  are  placated,  are  gratified  and  purr,  who  roar 
when  they  are  touched  by  the  sharp  point  of  iron  adver- 
sity."— M or 7iing  Sermon,  Janua7'y  23,  1850- 

Ballooning  to  Heaven. 
"  He  goes  on  say,  *  And  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above 
measure  through  the  abundance  of  the  revelations,  there 
was  given  to  me  a  thorn  in  the  flesh — the  messenger  of 
Satan  to  buffet  me,  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above  measure;' 
that  is,  lest  he  should  go  ballooning  to  heaven  before  God 
summoned  him  ;  he  was  tied  down  to  earth  with  a  rope." — ■ 
Morning  Sermon,  April  2, ,  1857. 

Mobs  God's  Providential  Asses. 
*'  I  think  mobs  are  God's  providential  asses,  which  He 
makes  harrow  up  the  ground  in  time  of  seed-sowing ;  and 
I  think  there  is  no  other  means  by  which  a  plentiful  har- 
vest is  more  effectually  insured.  I  am  sorry  for  any  State 
that  never  had  any  mobs.  I  believe  New  Jersey  never 
had  one." — Morning  Sermon,  March  27,  1859. 

Ain't  as  Good  as  he  is. 
"When   they  go  to    your    funeral,   and   the   minister 


262  American  Pulpit  Pungencies. 

makes  a  saint  of  you,  they  won't  be  so  indecent  as  to 
laugh  there  ;  but  they  say  when  they  get  home,  '  I  guess 
you  and  I  are  safe  if  he  is.  The  minister  sent  him  right 
straight  to  heaven,  you  see.  If  we  ain't  as  good  as  he  is, 
it's  a  pity.'" — Morniiig  Sermon,  March  27,  1859. 

Ado  about  the  Sprinklings  and  Dre7ichings. 
"  It  is  not  particularly  agreeable  to  be  rained  upon  ;  and 
yet,  what  if  a  man,  being  caught  in  a  shower  while  on  his 
way  to  visit  a  friend,  should  say,  '  Oh,  what  an  unfortunate 
circumstance  !  Oh,  my  raiment  !  oh,  my  skin  ! '  And  what, 
if  arriving  at  his  friend's  house  no  more  drenched  in  body 
than  in  mind,  he  should  say,  '  A  sad  calamity  has  befallen 
me ;  I  am  in  great  trouble  ;  I  have  met  with  a  serious  misfor- 
tune !'  Why,  everybody  would  laugh  at  him  except  the  host  : 
he  might  refrain  from  laughing  from  politeness ;  but  every 
child,  and  every  servant,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  household, 
would  be  convulsed  with  laughter.  And  I  suppose  the 
angels  have  abundant  occupation  to  laugh  at  us,  when 
they  see  what  an  ado  we  make  about  the  sprinklings  and 
drenchings  that  we  receive  in  the  showers  which  God 
sends  upon  us,  in  the  shape  of  trials  and  sufferings.  God's 
sons  ought  to  be  heroes." — Morni7ig  Sermon,  January  15, 
i860. 

DR  BEDELL  OF  PHILADELPHL\. 

One  Sunday,  while  he  was  preaching,  a  young  man 
passed  by,  with  a  number  of  companions,  as  gay  and 
thoughtless  as  himself  One  of  them  proposed  to  go  into 
the  church,  saying,  "  Let  us  go  and  hear  what  this  man 
has  to  say,  that  everybody  is  running  after."  The  young 
man  made  this  awful  answer,  "  No,  I  would  not  go  into 


Dr  Bedell  of  PJiiladelpJiia,  2  63 

such  a  place  if  Christ  himself  was  preaching."  Some 
weeks  after,  he  was  again  passing  the  church,  and  being 
alone,  and  having  nothing  to  do,  he  thought  he  would  go 
in  without  being  observed.  On  opening  the  door  he  was 
struck  with  awe  at  the  solemn  silence  of  the  place,  though 
it  was  much  crowded.  Every  eye  was  fixed  on  the 
preacher,  who  was  beginning  his  discourse.  His  attention 
was  instantly  caught  by  the  text,  "  I  discerned  among  the 
youths  a  young  man  void  of  understanding,"  (Prov.  vii.  7.) 
His  conscience  was  smitten  by  the  power  of  truth.  He 
saw  that  he  was  the  young  man  described.  A  view  of  his 
profligate  life  passed  before  his  eyes,  and  for  the  first  time 
he  trembled  under  the  feeling  of  sin,  He  remained  in  the 
church  till  the  preacher  and  congregation  had  passed  out ; 
then  slowly  returned  to  his  home.  He  had  early  received 
infidel  principles,  but  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  had  aroused 
him  in  his  folly,  led  him  to  a  constant  attendance  on  the 
ministry  of  Dr  Bedell,  who  had  been  the  instrument  of 
awakening  his  mind.  He  cast  away  his  besetting  sin,  and 
gave  himself  to  a  life  of  virtue  and  holiness.  He  after- 
wards declared  openly  his  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  his  desire  to  devote  himself  to  His  service. 

INFLUENCE  OF  FAULT-FINDING. 

The  Reverend  Mr  Beckvvith  says  : — "  I  was  once  con- 
versing with  a  young  and  successful  minister  of  the  gospel, 
who  related  to  me  the  following  circumstances.  When  he 
was  quite  a  child,  he  heard  a  minister  preach  on  repent- 
ance. This  was  on  the  forenoon  of  a  Sabbath.  His 
feelings  were  excited,  and  he  had  almost  determined, 
before  the  conclusion  of  the  sermon,  to  perform  the  duty 
without  delay.    In  this  state  of  mind  he  went  to  the  house 


264  Dr  Lyman  Beecher. 


of  God  in  the  afternoon,  and  heard  the  same  minister  on 
the  judgment.  He  was  still  more  deeply  impressed,  and 
came  to  the  resolution  to  attend  to  religion  immediately. 
But,  as  he  passed  from  the  sanctuary,  he  overheard  two 
professing  Christians  conversing  on  the  sermon.  '  A  very 
solemn  discourse,'  said  one.  'Yes,'  replied  the  other, 
*  but ' — and  he  proceeded  to  make  some  critical  remark, 
the  effect  of  which  was,  for  that  time  at  least,  to  erase  all 
serious  impressions  from  the  mind  of  the  youth.  How 
often  do  we  witness  this  evil ! " 


DR  LYMAN  BEECHER, 

The  well-known  American  Presbyterian  minister,  once 
engaged  to  preach  for  a  country  minister  on  exchange, 
and  the  Sabbath  proved  to  be  one  excessively  stormy, 
cold,  and  uncomfortable.  It  was  in  mid-winter,  and  the 
snow  was  piled  all  along  in  the  roads,  so  as  to  make  the 
passage  very  difficult.  Still  the  minister  urged  his  horse 
through  the  drifts,  put  the  animal  into  a  shed,  and  went 
in.  As  yet  there  was  no  person  in  the  house,  and  after 
looking  about,  the  old  gentleman — then  young — took  his 
seat  in  the  pulpit.  Soon  the  door  opened,  and  a  single 
individual  walked  up  the  aisle,  looked  about,  and  took  a 
seat.  The  hour  came  for  commencing  service,  but  no 
more  hearers. 

Whether  to  preach  to  such  an  audience  was  a  question, 
and  it  was  one  that  Lyman  Beecher  was  not  long  in 
deciding.  He  felt  that  he  had  a  duty  to  perform,  and  he 
had  no  right  to  refuse  to  do  it,  because  only  one  man 
could  reap  the  benefit  of  it;  and  accordingly  he  went 
through  all  the  services,  praying,  singing,  preaching,  and 


Proving  an  Alibi.  265 


the  benediction,  with  only  one  hearer.  And  when  all  was 
over,  he  hastened  down  from  the  desk  to  speak  to  his 
congregation,  but  he  had  departed. 

A  circumstance  so  rare  was  referred  to  occasionally,  but 
twenty  years  after  it  was  brought  to  the  doctor's  mind 
quite  strangely.  Travelling  somewhere  in  Ohio,  the 
doctor  alighted  from  the  stage  one  day  in  a  pleasant 
village,  when  a  gentleman  stepped  up  and  spoke  to  him, 
famiharly  calling  him  by  name.  "  I  do  not  remember 
you,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  suppose  not,"  said  the 
stranger ;  "but  we  once  spent  tv/o  hours  together  in  a  house 
alone  in  a  storm."  "  I  do  not  recall  it,  sir,"  added  the  old 
man ;  "pray  when  was  it  1"  "  Do  you  remember  preaching, 
twenty  years  ago,  in  such  a  place,  to  a  single  person  ? " 
"  Yes,  yes,"  said  the  doctor,  grasping  his  hand,  "  I  do, 
indeed,  and  if  you  are  the  man,  I  have  been  wishing  to 
see  you  ever  since."  "  I  am  the  man,  sir ;  and  that 
sermon  saved  my  soul,  made  a  minister  of  me,  and  yonder 
is  my  church !  The  converts  of  that  sermon,  sir,  are  all 
over  Ohio." 

Proving  a?i  Alibi. 
A  clergyman  at  Cambridge  preached  a  sermon  which 
one  of  his  auditors  commended.  "  Yes,"  said  a  gentle- 
man to  whom  it  was  mentioned,  "  it  was  a  good  sermon, 
but  he  stole  it."  This  was  told  to  the  preacher.  He  re- 
sented it,  and  called  on  the  gentleman  to  retract  what  he 
had  said.  "  I  am  not,"  replied  the  aggressor,  "  very  apt 
to  retract  my  words,  but  in  this  instance  I  will.  I  said 
you  had  stolen  the  sermon.  I  find  I  was  wrong ;  for  on 
returning  home,  and  referring  to  the  book  whence  I  thought 
it  was  taken,  I  found  it  there." 


266  Mr  Toplady. 


This  second-hand  mode  of  clerical  instruction  is  not 
new.  Mr  Toplady  mentions  it  as  existing  when  he  was 
quite  a  young  man.  In  a  letter,  dated  February  1775,  ^^ 
says,  "  In  the  spring  of  1762,  a  month  or  two  before  I  took 
deacon's  orders,  I  was  cheapening  some  books  of  Osborne, 
Dr  Johnson's  bookselling  friend.  After  that  business  was 
over,  he  took  me  to  the  farthest  end  of  his  long  shop,  and, 
in  a  low  voice,  said,  '  Sir,  you  will  soon  be  ordained ;  I 
suppose  you  have  not  laid  in  a  very  great  stock  of  ser- 
mons ;  I  can  supply  you  with  as  many  sets  as  you  please; 
all  originals,  very  excellent,  and  they  will  come  for  a  trifle.* 
My  answer  was,  I  certainly  shall  never  be  a  customer 
to  you  in  that  way ;  for  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  man  who 
cannot,  or  will  not,  make  his  own  sermons,  is  quite  unfit  to 
wear  the  gown.  How  could  you  think  of  my  buying 
ready-made  sermons  %  I  would  much  sooner,  if  I  must  do 
one  or  the  other,  buy  ready-made  clothes.  His  answer 
shocked  me  :  '  Nay,  young  gentleman,  do  not  be  surprised 
at  my  offering  you  ready-made  sermons,  for  I  assure  you 
I  have  sold  ready-made  sermons  io  many  a  bishop  in  my 
time.' " 

REV.  MR  TOPLADY. 

The  following  seems  a  specimen  of  evangelical  painting, 
as  well  as  pious  liberty:  it  is  by  the  Rev.  Mr  Toplady, 
vicar  of  Broad  Hembury,  who  wrote  the  well-known  hymn 
beginning  "Rock  of  Ages:" — "The  painter,"  he  says, 
"chooses  the  materials  on  which  he  will  delineate  his  piece. 
There  are  paintings  on  wood,  on  glass,  on  metals,  on  ivory, 
on  canvas.  So  God  chooses  and  selects  the  persons  on 
whom  His  uncreated  spirit  shall,  with  the  pencil  of  effec- 
tual grace,  re-delineate  the  holy  likeness  which  Adam  lost. 


Anecdotes  about  Plagiarists.  267 

Among  these  are  some  whose  natural  capacities,  and  ac- 
quired improvements,  are  not  of  the  first-rate  :  there  the 
image  of  God  is  painted  on  wood.  Others  of  God's  people 
are  not  those  quick  sensibiHties  and  poignant  feelings  by 
which  many  are  distinguished ;  there  the  Holy  Spirit's 
painting  is  on  7narble.  Others  are  permitted  to  fall  from 
their  first  love,  and  to  deviate  from  their  steadfastness; 
these  the  Holy  Spirit  paints  on  glass,  which  perhaps  the 
first  stone  of  temptation  may  injure.  But  the  celebrated 
artist  will  in  time  repair  those  breaches,  and  restore  the 
frail  brittle  Christian  to  his  original  enjoyments,  and  to 
more  than  his  original  purity  :  and  what  may  seem  truly 
wonderful,  divine  grace  restores  the  picture  by  breaking  it 
over  again.  It  is  the  broken-hearted  sinner  to  whom  God 
will  impart  the  comforts  of  salvation.  The  ancients 
painted  only  in  water-colours  ;  but  the  moderns  (from  a.d. 
1320)  have  added  beauty  and  durabihty  to  their  pictures, 
by  painting  them  in  oil,  applicable  to  hypocrites  and  true 
believers.  An  hypocrite  may  outwardly  bear  something 
that  resembles  the  image  of  God  but  it  is  only  in  fj^esco 
or  water-colours,  which  do  not  last,  and  are  at  best  laid  on 
by  the  hand  of  dissimulation.  But,  (if  I  may  accommo- 
date so  famihar  an  idea  to  so  high  a  subject,)  the  Holy 
Spirit  paints  in  oil;  He  accompanies  his  work  with  unc- 
tion and  with  power,"  &c. 

The  Popular  Preacher  and  his  Plagiarisms. 

A  reverend  divine  in  the  west  end  of  London  was  what 
is  called  a  popular  preacher.  This  reputation,  however, 
had  not  been  acquired  by  his  drawing  largely  on  his  own 
eloquence  and  erudition,  but  by  the  ingenuity  with  which 
he  appropriated  the  thoughts  of  the  great  divines  who  had 


263  Unintentional  Plagiarism. 


gone  before  him.  His  sermons  were  full  of  petty  larcenies. 
A  fashionable  audience  is  not  deeply  read  in  pulpit  lore. 
With  such  hearers  he  passed  for  a  model  of  knowledge 
and  pathos.  Nevertheless,  he  was  once  detected.  A 
grave  old  gentleman  came  one  Sunday,  seated  himself 
close  to  the  pulpit,  and  listened  with  profound  attention. 
The  preacher  had  scarcely  finished  his  third  sentence  be- 
fore the  stranger  muttered  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  all 
those  around  him,  "  That  's  Sherlock  ! "  The  preacher 
frowned,  but  went  on.  He  was  glibly  proceeding  when 
the  tormenting  interrupter  broke  out  with  "That's  Til- 
LOTSON ! "  The  preacher  bit  his  lips,  and  paused,  but 
again  thought  it  better  to  pursue  the  thread  of  his  discourse. 
A  third  exclamation  of  "That's  Blair!"  was,  however, 
too  much,  and  completely  exhausted  his  patience.  Lean- 
ing over  the  pulpit,  he  cried,  "  Fellow,  if  you  do  not 
hold  your  tongue,  you  shall  be  turned  out  ! "  With- 
out altering  a  muscle  of  his  countenance,  the  imperturbable 
old  gentleman  lifted  up  his  head,  and  looking  the  preacher 
full  in  the  face,  retorted,  "  That  's  his  own  !  " 

Unintentional  Plagiarism. 
Some  years  ago,  a  clergyman  attended  divine  service 
at  one  of  the  largest  churches  in  the  west  end  of  London. 
The  preacher  delivered,  with  great  unction,  a  sermon  of  re- 
markable power.  The  clergyman  imagined  that  he  was 
familiar  with  the  argument,  and  on  reaching  home,  dis- 
covered that  he  had  hstened  to  John  Wesley's  celebrated 
sermon,  "  By  grace  are  ye  saved."  The  clergyman  told 
these  circumstances  to  a  friend  of  the  preacher,  who  in 
turn  remonstrated  with  the  latter.  The  preacher  strongly 
disavowed  any  intention  to  copy  another  man's  sermon, 


JoJui  Berridge.  269 


and  showed  his  friend  a  proof-sheet  of  the  discourse, 
which  he  was  about  to  pubhsh  with  others  in  a  vohune. 
It  afterwards  turned  out  that  the  printer,  having  com- 
plained of  the  meagreness  of  the  volume,  the  preacher 
selected  this  manuscript,  having  entirely  forgotten  that  he 
had  copied  it  when  a  young  man  from  John  Wesley. 

JOHN  BERRIDGE, 

Some  time  vicar  of  Everton,  was  born  in  February  17 16, 
and  died  on  the  2 2d  January  1793.  He  was  one  of  the 
notorious  eccentricities  of  the  last  century.  The  follow- 
ing extract  illustrates  his  manner  of  discussing  a  text : — 

Sergeant  If. 

"  The  doctrine  of  perseverance  affords  a  stable  prop  to 
upright  minds,  yet  lends  no  wanton  cloak  to  corrupt  hearts. 
It  brings  a  cordial  to  revive  the  faint,  and  keejDS  a  guard 
to  check  the  froward.  The  guard  attending  on  this  doc- 
trine is  Sergeant  If;  low  in  stature,  but  lofty  in  signifi- 
cance ;  a  very  valiant  guard,  though  a  monosyllable.  Kind 
notice  has  been  taken  of  the  sergeant  by  Jesus  Christ  and 
His  apostles  ;  and  much  respect  is  due  unto  him,  from 
all  the  Lord's  recruiting  officers,  and  every  soldier  in  His 
army. 

"  Pray  listen  to  the  sergeant's  speech  : — '  If  ye  continue 
in  my  word,  then  are  ye  my  disciples  indeed,'  John  viii. 
31.  '  If  ye  do  these  things  ye  shall  never  fall,'  2  Peter  i. 
10.  *  If  what  ye  have  heard  shall  abide  in  you,  ye  shall 
continue  in  the  Son  and  in  the  Father,'  i  John  ii.  24.  '  We 
are  made  partakers  of  Christ,  if  we  hold  fast  unto  the  end,' 
Heb.  iii.  14.     '  Whoso  looketh  and  continueth  (that  is,  if 


270  Street  Preach'mg  in  California. 

he  that  looketh  does  continue)  in  the  perfect  law  of  Hberty, 
that  man  shall  be  blessed  in  his  deed,'  James  i.  25. 

"  Yet  take  notice,  sir,  that  Sergeant  If  is  not  of  Jewish, 
but  of  Christian  parentage ;  not  sprung  frum  Levi,  though 
a  son  of  Abraham  ;  no  sentinel  of  Moses,  but  a  watchman 
for  the  camp  of  Jesus." 

Street  Preaching  in  San  Francisco^  California^ 
"  The  brethren  knew  that  if  the  gamblers  should  regard 
my  attempt  to  preach  on  the  Plaza,  thrilling  every  one  of 
their  saloons  with  the  echoes  of  an  unwelcome  gospel,  as 
an  interference  with  their  business,  and  should  shoot  me 
down,  there  would  be  no  redress.  It  would  simply  be 
said,  'The  gamblers  killed  a  Methodist  preacher.'  At 
the  appointed  time  I  was  on  the  Plaza,  accompanied  by 
Mrs  T.  and  a  few  friends.  I  got  Mrs  T  a  chair,  and  put 
her  in  care  of  Dr  B.  Miller,  and  appropriated  a  carpenter's 
work-bench,  which  stood  in  front  of  the  largest  gambling 
saloon  in  the  place,  as  my  pulpit.  At  that  moment 
Clarkson  Dye,  thinking  I  might  need  some  protection 
against  the  rays  of  the  burning  sun,  went  across  to  Brown's 
Hotel,  and  asked  for  the  loan  of  an  umbrella  to  hold  over 
the  preacher.  He  was  met  with  the  reply :  '  I  won't  let 
my  umbrella  be  used  for  such  a  purpose,  but  if  I  had  some 
rotten  eggs  I'd  give  them  to  him.'  He  had  to  pay  nine 
dollars  per  dozen  for  eggs,  and  couldn't  afford  to  throw 
them  at  the  preacher. 

"  Taking  my  stand  on  the  work-bench  I  sang  : 

*'  '  Hear  the  royal  proclamation, 
The  glad  tidings  of  salvation, 
Publishing  to  every  creature, 
To  the  ruin'd  sons  of  nature. 


Street  Preaching  in  California.  271 


Jesus  reignSj  he  reigns  victorious 
Over  heaven  and  earth  most  glorious, 
Jesus  reigns  !'  &c.  &c. 

"  By  the  time  the  song  ended,  I  was  surrounded  by  about 
one  thousand  men.  Restless  hundreds,  always  ready  for 
the  cry,  '  A  whale  !  a  whale  !'  or  any  other  wonder  under 
the  sun,  came  running  from  every  direction,  and  the  gam- 
bling-houses were  almost  vacated. 

"  I  had  crossed  the  Rubicon,  and  now  came  the  tug  of 
war.  Said  I,  '  Gentlemen,  if  our  friends  in  the  Atlantic 
States,  with  the  views  and  feelings  they  entertain  of  Cali- 
fornian  society  when  I  left  them,  had  heard  that  there  was 
to  be  preaching  this  afternoon  in  Portsmouth  Square,  in 
San  Francisco,  they  would  have  predicted  disorder,  con- 
fusion, and  riot ;  but  we  who  are  here  believe  very  differ- 
ently. One  thing  is  certain,  there  is  no  man  who  loves  to 
see  those  stars  and  stripes  floating  on  the  breeze,  (pointing 
to  the  waving  flag  of  our  Union,)  and  who  loves  the  insti- 
tutions fostered  under  them  ;  in  a  word,  there  is  no  true 
American  but  will  observe  order  under  the  preaching  of 
God's  word  anywhere,  and  maintain  it  if  need  be.  We 
shall  have  order,  gentlemen.  Your  favourite  rule  in 
arithmetic  is  the  rule  of  "  loss  and  gain."  In  your  tedious 
voyage  round  the  Horn,  or  your  wearisome  journey  over 
the  plains,  or  your  hurried  passage  across  the  Isthmus, 
and  during  the  few  months  of  your  sojourn  in  CaUfornia,  you 
have  been  figuring  under  this  rule  ;  losses  and  gains  have 
constituted  the  theme  of  your  thoughts  and  calculations. 
Now  I  wish  most  respectfully  to  submit  to  you  a  question 
under  your  favourite  rule.  I  want  you  to  employ  all  the 
mathematical  power  and  skill  you  can  command,  and 
patiently  work  out  the  mighty  problem.     The    question 


272  Hgiv  to  Arrest  the  Attention. 

may  be  found  in  the  twenty-sixth  verse  of  the  sixteenth 
chapter  of  our  Lord's  Gospel  by  St  Matthew.  Shall  I 
announce  it  1  "  What  is  a  man  profited  if  he  shall  gain 
the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?'" 

"  Every  man  present  was  a  'true  American'  for  that 
hour.  Perfect  order  was  observed,  and  profound  attention 
given  to  every  sentence  of  the  sermon  that  followed.  That 
was  our  first  assault  upon  the  enemy  in  the  open  field  in 
San  Francisco,  and  the  commencement  of  a  seven  years' 
campaign,  which  is  illustrated  in  my  book  on  '  Street 
Preaching  in  San  Francisco.'  I  preached  in  the  chapel 
that  evening  to  a  crowded  house,  and  four  men  presented 
themselves  at  the  altar  as  seekers  of  salvation.  I  preached 
every  night  during  that  week,  and  three  persons  professed 
to  experience  religion  ;  the  first  revival  meeting  in  Cali- 
fornia. The  little  society  was  greatly  refreshed,  and 
especially  encouraged  by  the  fact  that  God  could  and  did 
convert  sinners  in  that  land  of  gold  and  crime,  a  thing 
almost  as  incredible,  even  among  Christians,  at  that  time 
in  California,  as  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  among  the 
Sadducees." — Taylor's  California  Life  Illustrated, 

An  American  Preacher's  Ideas  on  the  Necessity  of  Arrcsti7ig 
the  Attention  of  the  Congregation. 

To  preach  the  gospel  effectively,  you  must  first  arrest 
the  attention  of  your  hearers.  The  mind  of  every  man, 
woman,  or  child  you  meet  in  the  country  or  in  the  city  is 
preoccupied,  either  revolving  some  theme,  or,  more  pro- 
bably, indulging  a  reverie. 

The  same  is  true,  also,  of  every  person  who  comes  to 
hear  you  preach.  Every  memory  and  imagination  con- 
stitute the   scene  of  a  vast  panoramic  display  of  images 


Hoiv  to  Arrest  the  Attention.  273 


and  associations  as  wide  as  the  world.  If,  like  the  pro- 
phet Ezekiel  in  the  ancient  temple  of  Israel,  you  could 
"  dig  a  hole  through  the  wall,"  and  look  into  the  secret 
chambers  of  the  souls  of  your  hearers,  you  would  see, 
right  there  in  the  Lord's  house,  farms  and  farming  im- 
plements ;  horses,  hogs,  and  cattle  ;  lumber  yards  and 
merchandise  of  every  kind  ;  railroads  and  canals ;  bank 
stocks ;  commercial  contracts  ;  deeds  and  bonds  ;  houses 
of  every  style  of  architecture,  household  furniture,  and 
instruments  of  music ;  an  association  of  old  friends  and 
new  ones,  engaged  in  public  discussions  and  private  con- 
fabs on  all  the  exciting  subjects  of  the  times.  In  many 
minds  you  would  see  a  train  of  gloomy  associations — mis- 
takes, forgets,  mishaps,  and  wrongs  unredressed.  All 
these  images,  and  a  thousand  more,  preoccupy  the  minds 
of  your  hearers,  and  hold  their  preoccupancy,  passing  in 
and  out  in  almost  endless  succession  and  variety. 

Now,  sir,  it  avails  nothing  for  you  to  arise  before  such 
an  assembly  and  say,  "  Please  to  give  me  your  attention." 
They  can't  do  it.  Not  one  in  a  thousand  has  suflicient 
mental  discipline  to  give  you  undivided  attention,  till  you 
arrest  it  by  some  power  stronger  than  the  sparkling  reverie 
tide  which  bears  him  along  so  gently  as  scarcely  to  awake 
his  consciousness  of  the  fact.  High  intellectual  develop- 
ment and  piety  on  the  part  of  your  hearers,  do  not  enable 
them  to  give  you  their  attention  unless  you  arrest  it. 

Your  friend  selects  a  good  position  in  the  audience 
room,  from  which  he  can  see  every  gesture  and  catch 
every  flash  of  your  eye,  determining  to  give  you  undivided 
attention.  Just  as  he  gets  himself  well  fixed  for  receiving 
and  digesting  every  word  of  truth  you  may  dispense,  his 
attention  is   arrested  by  the   opening  of  the  door  behind 

s 


274  Wandej'mg  Thoughts. 

him ;  he  involuntarily  turns  his  head  towards  the  fellow- 
worshipper,  as  he  walks  up  the  aisle  looking  for  a  seat, 
and  says  to  himself,  "  That  man  looks  very  much  like  an 
old  friend  of  mine — my  old  friend.  He  went  to  Chicago 
and  bought  land — increased  in  value — sold  it  for  one 
thousand  dollars  per  acre — went  to  CaHfornia — wrought 
in  the  mines— made  a  pile — went  to  trading  and  lost  it — 
made  another  raise,  and  went  to  Oregon — was  in  the 
Indian  wars  there — came  very  near  losing  his  life — went 
to  Austraha — was  shipwrecked  on  his  voyage,  and  came 
very  near  going  under.  I  wish  I  could  hear  what  has  be- 
come of  him.  Fudge  !  What  am  I  thinking  about !  I  've 
lost  a  part  of  the  sermon." 

He  then  tries  to  gather  up  and  connect  the  loose  ends 
of  the  chain  of  your  discourse,  riven  and  cast  out  of  his 
mind  by  the  ghostly  image  of  his  old  friend,  and  now  he  is 
intent  on  hearing  you  through  without  interruption.  Eyes 
and  ears  open,  sir,  to  receive  some  stirring  truth  that  will 
wake  the  sympathies  of  his  soul.  Following  along  in  the 
path  you  have  marked  out  for  his  thoughts,  he  hears  you 
say,  "  Some  fastidious  persons  are  like  the  old  pharisees, 
of  whom  our  blessed  Saviour  said,  '  Ye  strain  at  a  gnat, 
and  swallow  a  camel.' " 

"Yes,"  says  he  to  himself,  ''the  boys  at  school  used  to 
read  it,  '  Strain  at  a  gate  and  swallow  a  sawmill.'  A  great 
set  of  boys !  Bill  Moore  married  his  cousin.  Bart  got 
drowned,  poor  fellow  !  Andy  Snider  went  to  Shenandoah 
and  learned  the  blacksmith  trade.  Bob  M'Cown  is  a  poor 
old  bachelor,"  &c.  He  chases  those  boys  nearly  all  over 
creation  before  he  wakes  up,  arrests  his  reverie,  and  comes 
back  to  the  subject  of  discourse.  Now,  sir,  he's  your 
friend,  and  doing  his  best  to  give  you  his  attention. 


Wa7ider'mg  Thoughts.  275 

Around  him  are  others  who  don't  care  much  whether 
they  hear  you  or  not.  There  sits  the  architect  criticising, 
not  your  sermon,  but  the  style  of  your  church. 

In  the  next  seat  is  the  physiognomist,  scanning  the 
faces  of  his  neighbours,  and  by  his  side  the  phrenologist, 
counting  the  bumps  on  their  heads. 

Farther  back  is  the  young  lover,  casting  his  glances 
toward  the  other  side  of  the  church. 

Up  in  the  amen  corner  sit  the  good  old  fathers,  looking 
up  at  you  with  longing  eyes  and  thirsty  souls,  thinking 
about  the  good  times  they  had,  long  ago,  when  old  Father 
Miller  travelled  the  circuit. 

The  good  sisters  on  the  other  side  are  as  variously  and 
fully  engaged  ;  some  examining  bonnets  and  ribbons,  some 
taking  patterns  of  the  new  style  of  dress,  some  pricing 
goods. 

The  mother  imagines  she  sees  her  boys  in  neighbour 
Jones's  orchard  stealing  apples,  which  excites  her  holy 
horror ;  another  just  remembers  that  she  forgot  to  return 
the  clothes-line  she  borrowed  last  week,  and  regrets  it. 
Another  wonders  if  poor  little  Jimmy  mightn't  get  into 
the  well  before  she  gets  back ;  another  is  wondering  who 
did  up  your  linen,  saying  to  herself,  "  It 's  a  pity  our 
preacher  can't  find  somebody  who  can  do  up  a  bosom  for 
him." 

Others  are  praying,  and  trying  to  get  their  "  spiritual 
strength  renewed,"  but  in  spite  of  their  efforts  to  "  gather 
in  the  wanderings  of  their  minds,"  and  to  have  their  souls 
watered  under  the  "  droppings  of  the  sanctuary,"  their 
roving  throughts  will  run  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,  while 
you  are  proclaiming  the  tidings  of  mercy  to  guilty  souls. 

They  are  there  to  hear  the  tidings,  and  waiting  to  be 


276  Wandering  Thoughts. 


arrested  and  interested.  Some,  to  be  sure,  care  not  for 
you  nor  your  message,  but  you  have  them  within  range  of 
your  gospel  gun,  and  ought  to  draw  a  bead  on  them  and 
fetch  them  down,  as  Daniel  Boone  did  his  coon. 

Frank  Dodge  once  said  in  my  hearing :  "  The  best  time 
I  can  get  for  maturing  a  commercial  scheme,  or  planning 
a  sea  voyage,  is  at  church  while  the  preacher  is  preaching. 
Away  from  the  care  and  bustle  of  business,  under  the 
soothing  sounds  of  the  gospel,  I  have  nothing  to  disturb 
my  meditations." 

Now,  my  brother,  don't  suppose  that  these  cases  of 
inattention  I  have  enumerated  are  rare  cases.  I  have 
only  given  you  a  glimpse  at  the  mental  workings,  or  rather 
wanderings  of  every  congregation  you  address,  and  of 
every  congregation  that  assembles  anywhere,  till  their 
attention  is  arrested.  Not  all  indulging  in  "vain  thoughts," 
to  be  sure,  for  many  are  thinking  of  God,  and  in  "  His  law 
do  they  meditate  day  and  night.''  All  occupied  with  their 
own  favourite  themes  and  thoughts,  but  none  closely  fol- 
lowing the  train  of  your  thoughts,  till  you  take  them  cap- 
tive and  draw  them  after  you  by  the  power  of  truth  and 
sympathy. 

You  have  no  right  to  complain  of  their  inattention,  and 
it  will  do  no  good  to  scold  them  about  it.  It  is  your  busi- 
ness to  arrest  them,  knock  their  thoughts  and  reveries  into 
pi,  and  sweeping  them  away,  insert  your  theme  in  their 
minds  and  hearts.  To  do  this,  you  must  wake  them  up, 
stir  the  sympathies  of  their  souls,  and  thrill  them,  by  all 
sorts  of  unanticipated  means,  with  the  joyful  tidings  of 
sovereign  mercy,  or  the  thundering  peals  of  coming  retri- 
bution. 

Do  you  imagine,  my  brother,  that  any  commonplace 


Wandering  Thoughts.  277 

performance  will  effect  all  this  ]  Just  try  your  hand  and 
see.  Select  a  good  text — give  to  your  audience,  by  way 
of  introduction,  a  brief  history  of  the  author,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  he  wrote  it.  Then  tell  them 
how  you  are  going  to  treat  the  subject.  Announce  your 
divisions  in  advance — I.,  II.,  III.,  and  IV. ;  state  your 
subdivisions  and  propositions,  and  argue  them  out  by  a 
process  of  abstract  reasoning  j  prove  your  positions  by 
judicious  selections  from  the  Scriptures,  as  "  saith  the  pro- 
phet," or  as  "  the  apostle  says."  Let  the  people  see  that 
you  are  not  a  mere  talker,  but  a  first-class  sermoniser. 
You  will  thus  command  their  respect  and  confidence  as 
a  theologian.  An  occasional  quotation  from  Young's 
"Night  Thoughts,"  or  Pollok's  "  Course  of  Time,"  will  add 
interest  and  beauty  to  your  sermon.  Don't  waste  the 
precious  time  necessary  to  bring  out  the  logical  deduc- 
tions of  your  propositions  in  telling  anecdotes.  That 
would  lower  your  ministerial  dignity.  Don't  descend  to 
personalities  in  your  delineations  of  character,  for  some  of 
your  hearers  will  think  you  designed  it  for  them,  and  will 
take  offence.  When  through  your  general  divisions,  and 
their  appropriate  subdivisions,  then  give  a  brief  synopsis 
of  the  whole,  and  close  with  three  or  four  additional  divi- 
sions, by  way  of  application. 

Peep  into  the  pulpit  encyclopjedias  of  this  enlightened 
age,  and  see  if  the  model  I  have  given  you  an't  according 
to  Gunter.  Follow  it  as  closely  as  possible,  and  I  '11  warrant 
your  congregation  a  good  time  for  an  undisturbed  reverie, 
or  any  mental  speculation  into  which  their  desires  and 
habits  may  lead  them  ;  or  a  nap  of  sleep,  according  to 
their  taste,  till  arrested  by  the  joyful  sound  of  "receive 
the  benediction,"  and  then  they  '11  feel  as  did  my  little 


278  How  to  Preach  a  Sleepy  Sermon. 

Charlie  on  one  occasion.  I  was  leading  my  little  boy 
through  the  wild  wood,  one  bright  spring  morning,  and 
said  to  him,  "  Charlie,  wouldn't  you  like  to  kneel  down 
with  pa  in  this  pretty  grove,  and  pray?" 

"Yes,  sir  !     Here's  a  good  place,  pa." 

When  I  got  through  with  my  devotions,  I  said  to  him, 
"  Charlie,  have  you  prayed  any  T' 

"  No,  sir  j  but  I  kneeled  down  all  the  time." 

'*  Don't  you  want  to  pray  1" 

*'  Yes,  sir ;  won't  you  tell  me  how  to  pray,  pa  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear  boy,  the  Lord  is  Hstening,  and  I  '11  tell 
you  what  to  say  to  Him." 

The  little  fellow  then  repeated  after  me  a  prayer 
adapted  to  his  years,  with  great  seriousness,  till  we  came 
to  that  solemn  word.  Amen,  which  he  pronounced  as  the 
first  of  a  list  of  about  ten  other  words  in  a  single  breath ; 
in  the  meantime  springing  to  his  feet,  and  running  a  rod 
after  his  dog.  "  Amen ;  where 's  my  hat  %  here  Trip,  here 
Trip,  here  Trip  ;"  and  away  he  ran,  in  a  chase  after  his 
little  dog. 

Before  you  have  reached  the  closing  amen  of  your 
benediction,  half  the  men  in  the  house  have  seized  their 
hats,  and  stand  ready  for  a  move  in  double  quick  time 
toward  the  roast  turkey,  or  other  welcome  sights  awaiting 
them  in  the  wide  world  without.  As  they  press  their  way 
along  the  side  walk,  you  may  overhear  the  question, 
"  Well,  brother,  how  did  you  like  the  sermon  to-day?" 
*'  O,  very  well  It  was  a  good,  sound,  doctrinal  sermon." 
— Taylor's  Model  Preacher. 

Gabriel  Barlette,  the  Neapolitan  Dominican,  has  a 
parallel  passage  to  the  above  quotation  from  the  Ame- 
rican Methodist,      He  wishes  to  rebuke   the  distracting 


Dr  Mason^s  Criticism.  279 

thoughts  which  too  often  beset  men  in  prayer.  He  illus- 
trates the  point  by  introducing  a  priest  engaged  in  his 
morning  devotions,  and  saying,  "  Pater  noster  qui  e.,  in 
coelis — I  say,  lad,  saddle  the  horse,  I  'm  going  to  town  to- 
day ! — sanctificetur  nomen  tuum — Cath'rine,  put  the  pot 
on  the  fire  ! — fiat  voluntas  tua — Take  care  !  the  cat's  at 
the  cheese  ! — panem  nostrum  quotidianum — Mind  the 
white  horse  has  his  feed  of  oats  ! "  These  men  did  not 
mean  to  suggest  irreverential  ideas,  but  rather  to  rebuke 
the  mere  parrot-worship  which  is  the  besetting  sin  of  for- 
malists. 

Dr  Maso7i's  Criticism. 
On  one  occasion,  it  is  related  of  Dr  Mason,  of  New 
York,  that  after  the  delivery  of  a  discourse  appointed 
for  the  day,  and  which  he  and  others  were  expected  to 
criticise,  he  was  observed  to  remain  silent  much  longer 
than  usual  for  him  on  similar  occasions,  apparently  ab- 
sorbed in  thought,  and  hesitating  whether  to  express  his 
opinion  of  the  performance  or  not.  At  length  he  was 
appealed  to  by  some  one,  and  asked  whether  he  had  any 
remarks  to  make.  He  arose  and  said,  "  I  admire  the 
sermon  for  the  beauty  of  its  style,  for  the  splendour  of  its 
imagery,  for  the  correctness  of  its  sentiments,  and  for  the 
point  of  its  arguments  ;  but,  sir,  it  wanted  one  thing  " — and 
then,  pausing  till  the  eyes  of  all  were  fixed  upon  him,  he 
added — "it  needed  to  be  baptized  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  entitle  it  to  the  name  of  a  Christian 
sermon." 

Long  Pulpit  Exercises. 
Complaints  against  long  religious  services  are  very  fre- 
quent.    Few  things  appear  so  bad  to  some  persons  as  to 


28o  Long  Pulpit  Exercises. 

be  kept  in  the  house  of  God  more  than  one  or  two  hours. 
Let  us  see  how  it  was  in  the  seventeenth  century,  Mr 
Howe  was  then  minister  of  Great  Torrington,  in  Devon- 
shire. His  labours  here  were  characteristic  of  the  times. 
On  the  pubUc  fasts  it  was  his  common  method  to  begin 
about  nine  in  the  morning,  with  a  prayer  for  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  in  which  he  begged  a  blessing  on  the 
work  of  the  day,  and  afterwards  read  and  expounded  a 
chapter  or  psalm,  in  which  he  spent  about  three-quarters 
of  an  hour,  then  prayed  an  hour,  preached  another  hour, 
and  prayed  again  for  half  an  hour.  After  this  he  retired, 
and  took  a  little  refreshment  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or 
more,  the  people  singing  all  the  while.  He  then  returned 
to  the  pulpit,  prayed  for  another  hour,  gave  them  another 
sermon  about  an  hour's  length,  and  so  concluded  the  ser- 
vice of  the  day,  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  with 
half  an  hour  or  more  of  prayer. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  SAME  SUBJECT  CONTINUED — MODERN    PREACHERS  AND 
SERMONS MISCELLANEOUS  ANECDOTES. 

ROWLAND  HILL, 

OR  SO  many  years  the  minister  of  Surrey 
Chapel,  in  the  Blackfriars  Road,  London,  was 
a  strange  compound  of  wisdom,  good  sense, 
drollery,  and  piety.  Of  these  qualities  Mr  E. 
Sydney,  his  well-known  biographer,  gives  many  illustra- 
tions:— "When  about  to  make  a  collection,  he  shouted 
out,  '  There  is  a  perpetual  frost  in  the  pockets  of  some 
wealthy  people  ;  as  soon  as  they  put  their  hands  into  them, 
they  are  frozen  and  unable  to  draw  out  their  purses.  Had 
I  my  way  I  would  hang  all  misers,  but  the  reverse  of  the 
common  mode  ;  I  v/ould  hang  them  up  by  the  heels,  that 
their  money  might  run  out  of  their  pockets,  and  make  a 
famous  scramble  for  you  to  pick  up  and  put  in  the  plate.' 
On  a  wet  day,  when  a  number  of  persons  took  shelter  in 
his  chapel  during  a  heavy  shower,  while  he  was  in  the 
pulpit,  he  said,  '  Many  people  are  greatly  blamed  for 
making  their  religion  a  cloak;  but  I  do  not  think  those 
are  much  better  who  make  it  an  umhrellar  When  he  was 
told  he  did  not  preach  to  the  elect,  upon  an  early  op- 
portunity, in  the  pulpit,  he  said^  '  I  don't  know  them^  or 


282  Roiuland  Hill. 


I  would  preach  to  them.  Have  the  goodness  to  mark 
them  with  a  bit  of  chalk,  and  then  I'll  talk  to  them.'  '  I 
don't  like  those  mighty  fine  preachers/  he  said,  '  who  so 
beautifully  round  off  all  their  sentences  that  they  are  sure 
to  roll  off  the  sinner's  conscience.'  '  Never  mind  breaking 
grammar,'  he  said  to  his  co-pastor,  Theophilus  Jones,  *  if 
the  Lord  enables  you  to  break  the  poor  sinner's  heart.' " 

On  a  public  occasion  Dr  Chalmers  was  invited  to 
preach  at  his  chapel,  and  Mr  Hill,  in  common  with  some 
of  his  leading  friends,  was  somewhat  alarmed  when  they 
heard  the  broad  dialect  of  the  distinguished  northern 
divine.  Mr  Hill  placed  himself  in  the  front  gallery,  that 
he  might  note  the  temper  of  the  congregation  as  the  ser- 
mon proceeded.  His  apprehensions  were  soon  removed. 
The  attention  of  the  people  was  riveted,  and  a  strange 
murmur  ran  through  the  assembly  when  the  preacher 
paused  at  the  end  of  a  paragraph.  Mr  Hill  could  not 
contain  himself  for  delight.  He  thumped  loudly  on  the 
book-board  before  him  and  exclaimed,  quite  aloud, ''  Well 
DONE  !  Well  done  !  Thomas  Chalmers  !  " 

A  contemporary  critic  thus  describes  Rowland  Hill's 
preaching — "  Sanctiloquence,  the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit, 
is  of  so  little  value  in  the  judgment  of  this  celebrated 
preacher,  that  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  he  will  pay  the 
least  degree  of  attention  to  any  observations  of  mine  on 
his  oratorical  qualifications.  What  I  shall  remark,  there- 
fore, can  only  benefit  those  who  may  wish  to  avoid  the 
errors  which  so  palpably  characterise  his  fashion  of  preach- 
ing. His  very  faults  have  raised  him  friends,  and  his  ex- 
travagances found  imitators.  Of  the  style  of  singing  early 
adopted,  and  still  practised,  in  his  chapel,  it  must  with 
justice  be  asserted,  in  the  versification  of  Pope,  that — 


His  Eccentricities.  283 


*  The  blessing  thrills  through  all  the  labouring  throng  ; 
And  Heaven  is  won  by— violence  of  song  ! ' 

Perhaps  it  is  owing  to  this  violence  of  song,  as  the  poet  by 
anticipation  described  it,  that  Mr  Hill  is  so  sensibly  agitated 
when  he  enters  his  pulpit,  and  first  surveys,  in  all  direc- 
tions, his  surrounding  congregation  ;  frequently  demons- 
trating, during  this  period,  by  alternate  movements  of  the 
head  or  arm,  how  properly  his  mind  is  then  engaged  in 
imploring  blessings  on  the  people  !  Notwithstanding  this 
display  of  pious  precision,  there  is,  in  this  preacher,  a 
negligence  degenerating  into  slovenliness.  Decorum 
really  becomes  the  pulpit.  It  is  painful,  it  is  worse  than 
painful,  to  see  a  divine,  so  placed,  turn  his  back  on  his 
hearers  the  instant  he  has  finished  his  prayer ;  then, 
having  pulled  his  robes  into  order,  loll  upon  his  cushion, 
rub  his  face,  feel  his  mouth,  or  pick  his  nose. 

"Language  must  not  hope  to  picture  the  look  with  which 
Mr  Hill  first  takes  the  pulpit.  So  vacantly  risible  is  the 
expression  of  his  countenance,  there  is  such  idiotic  shrewd- 
ness in  it,  that  to  stifle  laughter,  which  yet  must  be  done, 
when  one  contemplates  his  face,  is  an  effort  almost  too 
great  to  bear.  Strange  as  is  this  trait  in  him,  I  leave  the 
truth  of  it  to  those  who  have  seen  and  heard  him. 

"  Mr  Hill  gives  his  text  very  indistinctly,  and  almost  in- 
audibly.  The  character  of  his  discourses  is  generally 
known, — sameness  in  substance,  incoherent  in  arrange- 
ment, whimsical  in  illustration,  commonly  colloquial  in 
language,  and  abounding  in  strange  flights  of  fancy,  and 
apt  but  humorous  stories.  He  absolutely  labours  for  his 
metaphors  ;  and,  in  his  zeal  to  lower  himself  to  what  he 
conceives  to  be  the  '  aptitude  or  capability'  of  his  audience, 
he  constantly  mistakes  vulgarity  for  simplicity.      Let  us 


284  Roiulaiid  Hill. 


try,  from  memory,  some  of  those  passages  by  which  Mr 
Hill's  sermons  are  distinguished. 

" '  Some  preachers,'  he  lately  significantly  observed  to  his 
hearers,  '  had  need  be  Doctors  of  Divinity  in  order  to 
carry  their  nonsense  down  ! '  He  shortly  after  declared, 
however,  by  way  of  concession  to,  or  compromise  with, 
other  clergymen,  *I  don't  blame  those  who  must  preach  bad 
sermons,  if  they  read  good  ones  ;  for  it  is  certainly  better 
to  read  good  ones  of  other  people's,  than  to  preach  bad 
ones  of  their  own.'  He,  then,  by  no  unnatural  transition, 
began  to  descant  on  village  preaching  ;  and  preferred  for 
'  this  evangelical  work,'  men  with  '  less  learning  in  their 
heads  than  grace  in  their  hearts,'  to  all  the  dignified  divines 
in  existence.  I  shall  only  spoil  his  description  of  these 
village  missionaries,  whose  labours  are  so  piously  seconded 
by  the  '  money  dug,'  to  record  Mr  Hill's  strong  simile  for 
sacred  begging,  '  from  the  London  mines,'  were  it  at- 
tempted by  me  to  retrace  it  on  paper.  When  other  giddy 
fellows  are  setting  out  in  their  whiskeys,  Sabbath  after  Sab- 
bath, then  it  is  that  these  simple  persons,  the  village 
missionaries  of  the  London  Itinerant  Society, — start  for 
the  *  evangelising  work ; '  and,  as  Mr  Hill  remarked, 
'•  what  a  comfortable  employment  it  is  for  young  men  ! ' 
While  others  are  spending  money,  these  are  saving  it ; 
and  while  others  are  w-hiskeying  along  the  broad  way 
that  leadeth  to  destruction,  these  are  sociably  trotting, 
two  by  two,  the  narrow  path  that  must  inevitably  lead  to 
blessedness.'  So,  at  least,  Mr  Hill  assures  us.  Is  he  not 
a  most  admirable  recruiting-sergeant  in  the  service  of  his 
evangelical  church  militant? 

"  Strenuously  as  he  objects  to  the  '  sounding  brass '  or 
*  tinkling  cymbal '  of  oratory,  it  is  here  that  himself  can 


Dr  Chalmers.  285 


be  really  oratorical.  Not  only  does  he  exert  himself  in 
mouthing  the  sounding  brass,  but,  like  those  profane 
wenches  who  play  the  triangle  through  our  streets,  most 
aptly  can  he  intimate,  by  the  dexterous  motion  of  his 
fingers,  the  jingle  of  the  tinkling  cymbal.  Such  is,  never- 
theless, his  sovereign  contempt,  his  sublime  detestation,  of 
either  the  'sounding  brass'  or  *  tinkling  cymbal,'  and 
so  fearfully  does  he  refrain  from  the  judicious  admixture  of 
both,  that  it  is  by  no  means  easy  to  pronounce  to  what 
genus  of  eloquence  his  preaching  belongs." 

Rowland  Hill  would  have  tried  the  critical  sagacity  of 
the  most  erudite.  His  eccentricities  were  of  great 
notoriety.  With  many  strong  points  of  character,  he 
combined  notions  prodigiously  odd.  One  of  those  restless 
infesters  of  places  of  worship,  commonly  called  Anti- 
nomians,  one  day  called  on  Rowland  Hill,  to  bring  him 
to  account  for  his  too  severe  and  legal  gospel.  "  Do  you, 
sir,"  asked  Rowland,  "  hold  the  ten  commandments  to  be 
a  rule  of  life  to  Christians  ? "  "  Certainly  not,"  replied 
the  visitor.  The  minister  rang  the  bell,  and  on  the 
servant  making  his  appearance,  he  quietly  added,  "  John, 
show  that  man  the  door,  and  keep  your  eye  on  him  until 
he  is  beyond  the  reach  of  every  article  of  wearing  apparel 
or  other  property  in  the  hall." 

DR  THOMAS  CHALMERS. 

Of  this  prince  of  Scottish  preachers  a  personal  ac- 
quaintance wrote  : — 

"I  have  heard  all  the  greatest  pulpit  readers  of  my 
time,  and'  not  one  of  them  has  formed  an  exception  to 
the  rule.  Even  Chalmers,  their  chief  and  head,  whose 
mighty   ministrations   I   have   very  frequently   attended, 


286  Dr  Chalmers. 


matchless  reader  though  he  was,  came  most  fully  within 
the  rule.  That  distinguished  man,  indeed,  made  no  at- 
tempt to  look  at  his  audience  such  as  is  made  by  a  mul- 
titude of  readers ;  the  finger  of  either  hand  was  never  for 
a  moment  removed  from  the  MS. ;  there  was  nothing  be- 
yond a  passing  flash  of  the  eye  as  he  occasionally  darted 
his  head  upward.  Once  fairly  in  motion,  he  rushed  along 
like  a  locomotive  of  the  highest  power  at  full  speed,  heed- 
less of  everything  before,  behind,  or  around  him,  with  a 
sort  of  blind,  though  inspired  fury.  He  could,  I  verily 
believe,  have  performed  the  magnificent  feat  equally  well 
in  Westminster  Abbey  alone,  and  with  the  doors  shut  ! 
The  fires  which,  on  these  occasions,  raged  so  strongly 
within  him,  were  wholly  independent  of  external  circum- 
stances. As  a  consequence  of  this,  power,  all-subduing 
power,  was  the  prime  characteristic  of  the  achievement. 
He  was  generally  altogether  wanting  in  pathos,  that  ethe- 
real something  which,  proceeding  from  a  melted  heart, 
has  the  power  of  melting  all  around  it.  The  effect  of  his 
sublime  effusion  was  a  feeling  of  intense  excitement,  oft- 
times  of  overwhelming  admiration,  from  which  the  auditor 
was  often  strongly  tempted  to  clap  his  hands  and  shout 
applause ;  but  he  was  rarely  visited  with  compunction  or 
moved  to  tears.  Even  in  his  death-scenes  he  awakened 
in  the  assembly  scarcely  any  emotions  other  than  those  of 
awe  or  horror ;  the  most  sympathetic  even  of  the  gentler 
sex  seldom  wept.  The  most  striking  exception  I  ever 
remember  was  on  the  occasion  of  his  farewell  sermon  on 
leaving  Glasgow  for  St  Andrews.  The  discourse  on  that 
occasion  was  a  sublime  aff"air,  not  in  its  matter,  for  he  was 
obviously  by  no  means  well  prepared,  but  in  its  delivery ; 
and  the  prayer  was  even  more  touching  than  the  sermon. 


He  Preaches  from  Short-hand.  287 

The  discourse  appears  in  his  Collected  Works,  where  it 
occupies  but  a  very  secondary  place. 

*'  How  great  soever,  in  a  certain  way,  Chalmers  might 
be  with  MS.,  he  would  have  been  incomparably  greater 
with  free  speech ;  he  was  so  in  his  partial  attempts  at  ex- 
temporising. Nothing  I  ever  listened  to  might  be  likened 
to  his  off-hand  flights,  whether  in  the  pulpit  or  the  class- 
room, the  social  meeting,  or  the  General  Assembly  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland.  The  style  was  then  much  more 
natural  and  idiomatic,  much  less  figurative,  and  the  mat- 
ter much  more  simple,  condensed,  and  business-like,  and 
the  intonation  in  keeping  with  it.  It  was  nature  per- 
fected. On  these  occasions  he  was  scarcely  at  all  Cice- 
ronian, ofttimes  quite  Demosthenic. 

"  Again,  in  the  case  of  Chalmers,  there  was  a  most 
material  circumstance  which  greatly  abated  the  offensive- 
ness  of  the  MS.  to  the  public,  as  well  as  lessened  its  in- 
convenience to  himself  His  discourses  were  written  in 
short-hand — which  he  read  with  a  facility  almost  miracu- 
lous— on  a  sheet  of  foolscap  folded  into  eight  pages,  so 
that  there  were  only  four  leaves  to  turn  during  the  entire 
exercise — a  process  barely  perceptible.  One  of  these 
short-hand  manuscripts — a  much-prized  treasure — is  now 
before  me,  consisting  of  only  eight  pages,  although  it 
occupied  forty  minutes  in  the  delivery. 

"  The  power  of  Chalmers  with  MS.,  however  matchless 
in  its  own  way,  was,  I  repeat,  impotent  compared  with  the 
might  of  his  extempore  bursts.  The  difference  was  early 
perceived  by  discerning  men.  His  memoirs  contains  a 
singularly  interesting  passage  in  relation  to  this  subject. 
The  celebrated  Andrew  Fuller,  during  one  of  his  Scottish 
journeys  on  behalf  of  the  Baptist  mission,  before  Chalmers 


288  Dr  Brown  on  the  Fixaching  of  Chalnw^s. 


had  become  famous,  having  spent  some  time  with  him  at 
Kilmany,  laboured  hard  to  wean  him  from  the  habit  of 
reading.     Dr  Hanna,  his  son-in-law,  says  : — 

*' '  Under  the  very  strong  conviction  that  his  use  of  the 
manuscript  in  the  pulpit  impaired  the  power  of  his  Sab- 
bath addresses,  Mr  Fuller  strenuously  urged  upon  his 
friend  the  practice  of  extempore  preaching,  or  preaching 
from  notes.  "  If  that  man,"  said  he  to  his  companion, 
Mr  Anderson,  after  they  had  taken  leave  of  Kilmany 
manse — "  if  that  man  would  but  throw  away  his  papers  in 
the  pulpit,  he  might  be  king  of  Scotland." '  " 

Dr  John  Brown,  of  Edinburgh,  thus  graphically  de- 
scribes the  preaching  of  Chalmers  : — 

"The  drover,  a  notorious  and  brutal  character,  who 
had  sat  down  in  the  table-seat  opposite,  was  gazing  up  in 
a  state  of  stupid  excitement;  he  seemed  restless,  but 
never  kept  his  eye  from  the  speaker.  .  .  .  We  all  had  in- 
sensibly been  drawn  out  of  our  seats,  and  were  converging 
towards  the  wonderful  speaker.  .  .  .  How  beautiful  to  our 
eyes  did  the  Thunderer  look,  exhausted,  but  sweet  and 
pure.  .  .  .  We  went  home  quieter  than  when  we  came ;  we 
thought  of  other  things — that  voice,  that  face  ;  those  great, 
simple,  living  thoughts;  those  floods  of  resistless  eloquence; 
that  piercing,  shattering  voice." — Hoi'ce  Suhsecivce,  Second 
Series,  pp.  90-93. 

It  may  be  seriously  doubted  whether  Chalmers  would 
ever  have  become  celebrated  at  all  as  a  preacher  if  he  had 
delivered  his  sermons  extempore.  When  in  the  middle  of 
a  discourse  he  broke  off  to  illustrate  some  point  which  he 
deemed  insufficiently  dealt  with  in  his  MS.,  those  who 
remember  his  preaching  will  call  to  mind  the  almost  blun- 
dering simplicity  Vv'ith  which  he  spoke,  and  the  contrast  to 


The  Free  Church.  289 


the  imperial  utterances,  the  cataracts  of  eloquence,  which 
came  from  his  well-thumbed  notes. 

When  Dr  Chalmers  came  to  preach  the  opening  ser- 
mon in  the  National  Scotch  Church,  Regent  Square,  St 
Pancras,  London,  his  former  subordinate,  Edward  Irving, 
for  whom  the  spacious  edifice  had  been  built,  prayed 
before  the  sermon,  and  read  the  Scriptures.  He  chose 
for  that  purpose  one  of  the  longest  chapters  in  the  Old 
Testament,  and  prayed  for  nearly  two  hours.  The  over- 
crowded congregation  were  quite  fatigued  before  the  ser- 
mon began,  and  Dr  Chalmers  did  not  hesitate  to  express 
his  pain  and  annoyance  to  some  of  his  friends  when  the 
service  was  concluded. 

One  of  the  admirers  of  Dr  Chalmers,  who  was  always 
running  after  the  latest  variety  of  popular  preacher,  sent 
her  compliments  to  him  one  day,  and  asked  him  if  he  in- 
tended to  preach  at  St  George's  Church  on  the  morning  of 
the  following  Sunday  %  Dr  Chalmers'  reply  was  char- 
acteristic of  the  man.  He  said,  "  Present  my  respects  to 
Mrs  So-and-So,  and  tell  her  that  divine  service  will  be 
celebrated  as  usual  next  Sunday  morning,  and  that  it  com- 
mences at  eleven  o'clock." 

THE  FREE  CHURCH. 

Landseer  once  painted  a  celebrated  picture  called  "  The 
Free  Church."  It  represented  a  congregation  of  Scottish 
shepherds  with  their  collies  or  dogs,  seated  each  by  his  master 
in  the  pew.  A  wag  observed  on  this  custom,  "  I  suppose 
the  Presbyterian  minister  will  preach  on  dogmaiical  theo- 
logy." A  clergyman  from  a  distant  part  of  Scotland,  came 
to  officiate  to  one  of  these  shepherd  congregations.  It  is 
usual  in  the  Presbyterian  Kirk,  for  the  people  to  rise  when 

T 


2go 


Charles  S'uneon. 


the  minister  pronounces  the  final  blessing.  The  shep- 
herds continued  seated.  The  strange  minister  was 
scandalised,  and  sharply  exclaimed,  "  What,  is  there  not 
enough  devotional  spirit  amongst  you  to  make  you  rise  to 
receive  the  blessing  1"  An  old  shepherd  mounted  the 
pulpit  stairs,  and  whispered  in  the  preacher's  ear : — - 
'•'■  Meenister,  it's  just  to  cheat  the  doggies."  It  appeared 
that  directly  the  congregation  rose  to  receive  the  final 
blessing,  the  collies  thought  the  service  was  over,  and 
rushed  through  their  masters'  legs  with  mighty  yelpings 
into  the  churchyard. 

CHARLES  SIMEON. 

This  excellent  but  somewhat  weak  man  has  contributed 
perhaps  more  than  any  other  person  to  the  composition  of 
dull  sermons.  His  "  Horse  Homileticas"  no  doubt  contains 
much  valuable  matter  in  the  hands  of  a  judicious  reader  ; 
but  if  he  be  incompetent  or  uninformed,  they  resemble 
sharp  tools  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  clumsy  apprentice. 
But  whatever  may  be  the  value  of  his  writings,  he  lived  a 
life  of  singular  usefulness,  and  expired  at  the  ripe  age  of 
seventy-eight,  supported  by  divine  consolations.  It  is 
said  that  once  a  friend  asked  him,  during  his  sickness, 
what  he  was  thinking  about.  He  replied  with  animation, 
"  I  do  not  think  now  :  I  am  enjoying.'^  At  another  time 
he  exclaimed,  "  God  cannot  do  anything  against  my  will !" 
In  other  words,  that  he  was  entirely  resigned  as  to  the 
future.  On  another  occasion,  seeing  a  large  number  of 
persons  around  his  bed,  he  said,  mistaking  the  circum- 
c-;ance,  "  You  are  here  on  a  wrong  scent,  and  all  in  a 
wrong  spirit.  You  want  to  see  Avhat  is  called  a  deathbed 
scene.     That  I  abhor  from  my  inmost  soul.     I  wish  to  be 


Edward  Irving.  291 


alone  with  my  God,  to  lie  before  Him  as  a  poor,  wretched, 
hell-deserving  sinner,  but  I  would  also  look  to  Him  as  my 
all-forgiving  God/'  As  the  time  of  his  departure  drew 
near,  he  faltered  forth,  "  It  is  said,  O  death,  where  is  thy 
sting  ?"  Adding,  with  expressive  warmth,  "  Do  you  see 
any  sting  here  V  The  bystanders  replied,  "  No,  it  is  all 
taken  away/'  He  then  added,  "  Does  not  this  prove 
that  my  principles  were  not  founded  on  fancies  or  enthu- 
siasm, but  there  is  reality  in  them,  and  I  find  them 
sufficient  to  support  me  in  death."  As  his  disembodied 
spirit  passed  away,  the  loud  and  solemn  bell  of  great  St 
Mary's  in  Cambridge  began  to  toll  for  the  university  sermon 
which  he  himself  was  to  have  preached. 

EDWARD  IRVING. 

The  following  sketch  of  the  popularity  of  this  remark- 
able but  eccentric  man,  is  extracted  from  Mrs  Oliphant's 
*'Life,"  pubhshed  in  1862  : — 

"  The  immediate  origin  of  Irving's  popularity,  or  rather 
of  the  flood  of  noble  and  fashionable  hearers  who  poured 
in  upon  the  little  chapel  in  Hatton-Garden  all  at  once, 
without  warning  or  premonition,  is  said  to  be  a  speech  of 
Canning's.  Sir  James  Mackintosh  had  been  by  some 
unexpected  circumstance  led  to  attend  the  new  preacher, 
and  he  heard  Irving  in  his  prayer  describe  an  unknown 
family  of  orphans,  belonging  to  the  obscure  congregation, 
as  now  '  thrown  upon  the  fatherhood  of  God.'  The  words 
seized  upon  the  mind  of  the  philosopher,  and  he  repeated 
them  to  Canning,  v/ho,  as  Mackintosh  relates,  after  ex- 
pressing great  admiration  of  the  passage,  made  an  instant 
engagement  to  accompany  his  friend  to  the  Scotch  church 
on  the  following  Sunday.     Shortly  aft.r  this  had  taken 


SQS  Edward  Irving^ s  Orations. 

place,  a  discussion  arose  in  the  House  of  Commons  in 
which  the  revenues  of  the  Church  were  referred  to,  and 
the  necessary  mercantile  relation  between  high  talent  and 
good  pay  insisted  upon.  No  doubt  it  suited  the  states- 
man's purpose  to  instance,  on  the  other  side  of  the  ques- 
tion, the  little  Caledonian  chapel  and  its  new  preacher. 
Canning  told  the  House  that,  so  far  from  universal  was 
this  rule,  that  he  himself  had  lately  heard  a  Scotch  minis- 
ter, trained  in  one  of  the  most  poorly  endowed  of  churches, 
and  established  in  one  of  her  outlying  dependencies,  pos- 
sessed of  no  endowment  at  all,  preach  the  most  eloquent 
sermon  that  he  had  ever  listened  to.  The  curiosity 
awakened  by  this  speech  is  said  to  have  been  the  first 
beginning  of  that  invasion  of  '  society '  which  startled 
Hatton-Garden  out  of  itself" 

It  is  difficult  to  do  justice  to  the  matter  of  Irving's 
orations  in  a  brief  quotation.  They  have  much  of  the 
lofty  and  ornate  character  of  Hooker  and  Milton.  He 
owned  himself  a  great  admirer  of  the  poet.  The  following 
contrast  between  his  own  position  and  that  of  St  John  the 
Baptist  is  a  gem  in  its  way.  He  is  preaching  from  the 
text,  "  O  generation  of  vipers,"  &c. : — 

"  It  doth  not  become  me,  who  have  been  educated  in 
the  softness  of  civilised  life,  to  affect  the  rough  and  scorn- 
ful language  so  becoming  in  the  son  of  Zacharias;  and 
though  this  country  has  been  disgraced  by  martyrdoms  of 
the  Lord's  servants  no  less  than  Israel  was,  still,  as  by 
the  singular  providence  of  God  upon  the  liberties  of  the 
land,  we  are  not  likely  again  to  be  troubled  with  such  in- 
human spectacles,  I  shall  not  use  the  reproachful  language 
of  the  Baptist,  and  salute  ye  as  a  generation  of  vipers  ;  but 
I  will  not  fear  to  salute  ye  as  a  cold-hearted  generation,  who 


The  Style  of  Bishop  Sherlock.  293 

are  not  moved  as  ye  should  be  by  the  overtures  of  God. 
Else  why  this  standing  upon  the  porch  of  salvation,  and 
never  entering  in*?  Why  feel  conviction,  and  never  obey? 
Why  admire  saintliness,  and  not  seek  it  %  Why  weary  of 
the  world,  and  not  rise  unto  the  world  to  come"?  Why 
apprehend  death,  and  not  think  of  it?  Why  foresee  judg- 
ment, and  not  prepare  for  it?  Why  shudder  at  doom, 
and  not  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  %  Oh  !  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come,  for  you  are  often  warned.  Already  the 
axe  is  laid  to  the  root  of  the  trees,  and  they  are  falling 
fruitless  into  the  fire  unquenchable." 

BISHOP  SHERLOCK 

Must  be  distinguished  from  the  Dean  of  the  same  name. 
The  latter  was  attacked  by  Dr  South  for  his  want  of 
orthodoxy.  South  dedicated  his  volume  to  the  Dean's 
admirers,  and  to  himself,  the  chief  of  them.  When 
Dr  Nicholls  waited  on  Lord  Chancellor  Hardwicke  with 
a  copy  of  the  first  volume  of  Bishop  Sherlock's  sermons, 
in  November  1753,  his  lordship  asked  him  whether  there 
was  not  a  sermon  on  St  John  xx.  30,  31?  Dr  Nicholls 
having  replied  in  the  affirmative,  the  Lord  Chancellor 
desired  him  to  turn  to  the  conclusion,  and  repeated,  word 
for  word,  the  animated  contrast  between  the  Christian 
and  Mohammedan  religion,  beginning,  "  Go  to  your  natu- 
ral rehgion,"  &c.,  to  the  end  of  the  discourse. 

This  sermon  had  been  pubfished  singly  not  less  than 
thirty  years  before.  The  chief  circumstance  which  serves 
to  account  for  the  lively  impression  it  had  made  on  the 
mind  of  Lord  Hardwicke,  was  not,  after  all,  its  re- 
markable eloquence,  but  the  fact  that  he  had  probably 
heard  it  when  Sherlock  was  Master  of  the  Temple  3  aa 


294  ^^  Blair  on  Bishop  Sherlock. 

office  which  he  held  from  1704  to  1753.  In  the  farewell 
letter  which  he  addressed  to  the  Treasurer  and  Masters  of 
the  Bench,  he  declares  that  he  esteemed  his  "  relation  to 
the  two  Societies  of  the  Temple  to  have  been  the  greatest 
happiness  of  his  life,  as  it  introduced  him  to  some  of  the 
greatest  men  of  the  age,  and  afforded  him  the  oppor- 
tunities of  living  and  conversing  with  gentlemen  of  a 
liberal  education,  and  of  great  learning  and  experience." 

Dr  Blair,  in  his  lectures  on  rhetoric,  points  out  the  very- 
passage  which  Lord  Hardwicke  so  much  admired,  as  an 
instance  of  personification  carried  as  far  as  prose,  even  in 
its  highest  elevation,  will  admit.  The  well-known  critic 
remarks,  "  This  is  more  than  elegant ;  it  is  truly  sublime." 

When  Sherlock  was  promoted  to  the  Mastership  of  the 
Temple  he  was  only  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  age. 
So  early  an  elevation  gave  some  offence  ;  yet  it  took  place 
at  a  time  when  preferments  were  not  lightly  bestowed. 
Mr  Sherlock  in  a  short  period  exhibited  such  unusual 
ability,  and  made  such  a  hvely  impression,  as  removed  all 
prejudice  against  him.  He  exerted  the  utmost  diligence 
in  the  cultivation  of  his  talents  ;  his  learning  and  elo- 
quence were  conspicuous;  and  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years  he  became  one  of  the  most  celebrated  preachers  of 
the  age.  He  had  a  slight  natural  impediment,  a  sort  of 
thickness  of  speech ;  yet  he  delivered  his  sermons  with  so 
much  propriety  and  power  as  to  rivet  the  attention  and 
command  the  admiration  of  the  hearer.  His  portrait 
represents  a  man  of  more  than  ordinary  largeness  of  brain 
and  breadth  of  intellect. 

When  Bishop  Sherlock  had  published  his  fourth  volume 
of  discourses,  some  friends  were  expressing  a  wish  tliat  he 
would  give  orders  for  his  occasional  sermons,  which  he 


specimen  of  SherlocJi s  Style.  295 

had  printed  separately,  to  be  collected  into  a  volume. 
Dr  Newton  said  upon  it,  that  perhaps  Bishop  Sherlock 
was  of  the  same  mind  as  Bishop  Manningham,  for  when 
Dr  Thomas  Manningham,  his  son,  who  was  afterwards 
Prebendary  of  Westminster,  applied  to  him  in  the  name 
of  the  booksellers,  that  they  might  have  leave  to  collect 
into  a  volume  the  different  sermons  which  he  had  printed 
at  different  times,  for  there  was  a  sufficient  number  to 
make  a  volume,  the  Bishop  replied,  "  Prithee,  Tom,  let 
them  alone,  they  be  quiet  now;  put  them  together,  and 
they  will  fight."  This  fourth  and  last  volume  of  his  dis- 
courses Bishop  Sherlock  was  prevailed  upon  to  publish,  at 
the  request  of  his  friend  Gilbert  West.  The  Bishop  was 
against  publishing  any  more  sermons,  saying,  he  was 
drawn  to  the  dregs.  "  Why  then,"  replied  Mr  West, 
''  let  the  ungodly  of  the  earth  drink  them  and  suck  them 
out." 

The  following  passage  on  miracles  has  always  been  con- 
sidered by  critics  as  peculiarly  cogent : — 

"  Miracles  are  a  supernatural  proof  of  a  divine  power 
and  providence ;  and  no  man  who  believes  that  there 
ever  was  a  true  miracle  wrought  can  be  an  atheist.  And 
therefore  it  is  no  wonder  that  atheists  are  such  professed 
enemies  to  the  belief  of  miracles ;  but  it  is  a  great  wonder 
that  they  can  persuade  themselves  to  reject  all  those 
authentic  relations  we  have  of  miracles,  both  from  the  law 
of  Moses  and  from  the  gospel  of  Christ,  which  are  the 
most  credible  histories  in  the  world — if  we  look  upon 
them  as  no  more  than  histories — and  have  obtained  the 
most  universal  belief.  Especially  this  is  very  unaccount- 
able in  those  men  who  pretend  to  deism,  to  acknowledge 
a  God  who  made  the  world.     For  cannot  that  God  who 


296  The  Orkney  Assista?it  Curate. 

made  the  world,  and  made  nature,  act  without,  or  above, 
or  against  nature  when  He  pleases "?  And  may  it  not 
become  the  divine  wisdom  and  goodness  to  do  this,  when 
it  is  necessary,  for  the  more  abundant  conviction  of  man- 
kind, who  are  sunk  in  atheism  or  idolatry?  when  signs 
and  wonders  are  necessary  to  awaken  man  into  the  sense 
and  belief  of  God  and  His  providence?  which  was  the 
case  in  the  days  of  Moses;  or  to  give  authority  to 
prophets  to  declare  and  reveal  the  will  of  God  to  men ; 
(which  was  a  reason  for  miracles  as  long  as  God  thought 
fit  to  make  any  new  and  public  revelations  of  His  will ;) 
when  it  is  as  reasonable  and  credible  that  God,  who  can, 
when  He  pleases,  should  sometimes  work  miracles,  as  it 
is  that  He  should  take  care  to  preserve  the  knowledge  of 
Himself  and  His  will,  and  to  restore  it  when  it  is  lost ;  or 
to  make  such  new  discoveries  of  His  grace  as  the  fallen 
state  of  mankind  requires  ;  when,  I  say,  the  thing  itself  is 
so  credible  and  worthy  of  God,  what  reasonable  pretence 
can  there  be  for  rejecting  miracles,  for  which  we  have  the 
authority  of  the  best  attested  history  in  the  world." — 
Sherlock. 

THE  ORKNEY  ASSISTANT  CURATE. 

Sir  Hugh  Dalrymple,  a  Scottish  baronet,  during  the 
last  century,  once  paid  a  visit  to  the  Orkneys,  and  was 
much  struck  with  the  eloquence  of  a  poor  assistant  minis- 
ter, whom  he  accidentally  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing. 
He  wrote  to  Sir  Lawrence  Dundas,  father  of  the  late 
Lord  Dundas,  in  whose  gift  was  the  church  where  the 
curate  officiated,  requesting  the  reversion  gift  for  the 
assistant.  The  letter,  which  quaintly  blends  humour  and 
benevolence  together,  was  in  the  following  terms : — 


The  Orkney  Assistant  Curate.  297 

"  Dear  Sir, — Having  spent  a  long  time  in  the  pursuit 
of  pleasure  and  health,  I  am  now  retired  with  the  gout ; 
so  joining  with  Solomon  that  'all  is  vanity  and  vexation 
of  spirit,'  I  go  to  church  and  say  my  prayers.  I  assure 
you  that  most  of  us  religious  people  reap  some  little  satis- 
faction in  hoping  that  you  wealthy  voluptuaries  have  a 
fair  chance  of  being  lost  to  all  eternity,  and  that  Dives 
shall  call  on  Lazarus  for  a  drop  of  water;  which  he 
seldom  tasted  when  he  had  the  twelve  apostles  in  his 
cellar. 

"  Now,  sir,  that  this  doctrine  is  laid  down,  I  wish  to 
give  you  a  loop-hole  to  escape  through.  Going  to  church 
last  Sunday,  1  saw  an  unknown  man  in  the  pulpit ;  and 
rising  up  to  prayer,  I  began,  as  others  do  on  the  like 
occasion,  to  look  round  the  church  to  see  if  there  were 
any  pretty  girls  in  it,  when  my  attention  was  roused  by 
the  foreign  accent  of  the  parson.  I  gave  him  my  ear,  and 
had  my  devotion  awakened  by  the  most  pathetic  prayer 
I  ever  heard.  This  made  me  more  and  more  attentive  to 
the  sermon.  A  finer  discourse  never  came  from  the  lips 
of  man.  I  returned  in  the  afternoon,  and  heard  the  same 
preacher  exceed  his  morning's  work  by  the  finest  chain  of 
reasoning,  conveyed  by  the  most  elegant  expressions.  I 
immediately  thought  on  what  Felix  said  to  Paul,  '  Almost 
thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian.'  I  sent  to  ask  the 
man  of  God  to  honour  my  roof,  and  to  dine  with  me.  I 
inquired  of  him  his  country  and  what  not.  I  even  asked 
him  if  his  sermons  were  of  his  own  composition,  which  he 
affirmed  they  were.  I  assure  you,  I  believed  they  were  ; 
never  man  had  spoken  or  written  better. 

"  '  My  name  is  Dishington,'  said  he  ;  '  I  am  assistant  to 
a  mad  minister  in  the  Orkneys,  who  enjoys  a  rich  benefice 


298  The  Orkney  Assistafit  Curate. 

of  fift}^  pounds  a  year,  of  which  I  have  twenty-eight  pounds 
yearly  for  preaching  to  and  instructing  twelve  hundred 
people,  who  live  in  separate  islands.  Of  this  sum  I  pay 
one  pound  five  shillings  to  the  boatman,  who  by  turns 
transports  me  from  one  island  to  another.  I  should  be 
happy  if  I  could  continue  in  this  terrestrial  paradise,  but 
we  have  a  great  lord,  who  has  a  great  many  little  people 
about  him,  soliciting  a  great  many  little  things  that  he 
can  do  an4  that  he  cannot  do ;  and  if  my  minister  was  to 
die,  his  succession  is  too  great  a  prize  not  to  raise  up  too 
many  rivals  to  baulk  the  hopes  of  my  preferment.' 

"  I  asked  him  if  he  possessed  any  other  wealth.  '  Yes,' 
said  he,  '  I  married  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  island,  and  she 
has  blessed  me  with  three  children ;  and,  as  we  are  both 
young,  we  may  expect  more.  *  Besides,'  said  he,  '  I  am 
so  beloved  in  the  parish,  that  I  have  all  my  peats  led 
carriage  free.'  This  is  my  story;  now  to  the  prayer  of 
the  petition. 

"  I  never  before  envied  you  your  possession  of  the 
Orkneys,  which  I  now  do,  to  provide  for  this  innocent, 
eloquent  apostle.  The  sun  has  refused  your  barren  isles 
his  kindly  influence  ;  do  not  deprive  them  of  so  pleasant  a 
preacher;  let  not  so  great  a  treasure  be  lost  to  that  in- 
hospitable country;  for  I  assure  you,  were  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  to  hear  him  preach,  he  could  do  no 
less  than  make  him  an  archdeacon.  The  m.an  has  but 
one  weakness,  that  of  preferring  the  Orkneys  to  all  the 
earth.  The  way,  and  no  other,  you  have  a  chance  for 
salvation, — do  this  man  good,  and  he  will  pray  for  you. 
This  will  be  a  better  purchase  than  your  Irish  estate  or 
the  Orkneys,  and  I  think  will  help  me  forward  too,  since 
I  am  the  man  who  told  of  the  man,  so  worthy,  so  elo- 


Vr  Hoincdi,  299 


quent,  so  deserving,  and  so  pious,  and  whose  prayers  may- 
do  so  much  good.  Till  I  hear  from  you  on  this  head,  I 
am  yours  in  all  meekness,  love,  and  benevolence, 

"  H.  D." 

DR  HORNECK, 

Who  was  preacher  at  the  Royal  Chapel  of  the  Savoy  from 
1671  to  1696,  enjoyed  much  popularity  on  account  of  the 
eloquent  and  pathetic  style  of  his  sermons.  His  hearers 
were  gathered  from  all  parts  of  London,  so  that  Dean 
Freeman  used  to  say  that  Dr  Horneck's  parish  was  by 
far  the  most  extensive  in  London,  for  it  reached  from 
Whitehall  to  Whitechapel.  It  is,  however,  remarkable, 
that  when  he  w^as  mentioned  as  a  suitable  person  for 
the  living  of  St  Paul's,  Covent  Garden,  the  inhabitants  of 
that  parish  were  so  averse  to  him  that  Archbishop  Tillot- 
son  says,  ''  that  if  the  Earl  of  Bedford  had  liked  him, 
(which  it  would  seem,  he  did  not,)  he  could  not  have 
thought  it  fit  to  bestow  the  living  on  him,  knowing  how 
necessary  it  is  to  the  good  effect  of  a  man's  ministry  that 
he  do  not  He  under  any  great  prejudice  with  the  people." 

Dr  Birch  remarks  that  the  grounds  of  the  great  hostility 
to  Dr  Horneck,  on  the  part  of  the  Covent  Garden  people, 
are  not  very  apparent.  Bishop  Kidder,  his  biographer, 
sets  him  forth  as  one  of  the  brightest  examples  of  elo- 
quence and  piety,  "  He  had,"  says  Kidder,  "  the  zeal, 
the  spirit,  the  courage  of  John  the  Baptist,  and  durst 
reprove  a  great  man.  Perhaps  that  man  lived  not  who 
was  more  conscientious  in  this  matter." 

A  seaman's  criticism. 
A  clergyman  preaching  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Wap- 
ping,  observed  that  his  hearers  were  for  the  most  part  ia 


3O0  Dr  Willia7nso7i — Dr  Alossman. 

the  seafaring  way.  He  therefore  embelHshed  his  sermon 
with  several  nautical  metaphors.  "  Be  ever  on  the  watch," 
said  he,  ''  so  that  on  whatsoever  tack  the  evil  one  should 
bear  down  upon  you,  he  may  be  crippled  in  action." 
"Ay,  master,"  muttered  a  jolly  tar,  who  was  devoutly 
listening,  "  but  let  me  tell  you,  that  will  depend  on  your 
having  the  weather-gage  of  him."  A  just,  though  whimsical 
remark. 

DR  WILLIAMSON, 

Was,  during  part  of  the  last  century,  the  Vicar  of  Moulton, 
in  Lincolnshire.  It  is  narrated  of  him  that  he  had  a 
violent  quarrel  with  one  of  his  parishioners  of  the  name  of 
Hardy,  who  showed  considerable  resentment.  On  the 
following  Sunday  the  doctor  is  said  to  have  preached 
from  the  following  text,  which  he  pronounced  with  much 
emphasis,  and  with  a  significant  look  at  Mr  Hardy,  who 
was  present :  "  There  is  no  fool  like  the  fool  hardy." 
An  irreverent  but  witty  perversion,  illustrating  the  manner 
and  taste  of  the  period. 

dr  mossman, 
A  Scottish  Presbyterian  minister,  is  said  to  have  made  the 
following  singular  distinction  in  preaching  on  the  Third 
Commandment.  "  O  Sirs,  this  is  a  very  great  sin  !  For 
my  own  part,  I  would  rather  steal  all  the  horned  cattle  in 
the  parish,  than  take  that  holy  name  in  vain ! " 

ROBERT  hall's 

Method  of  preaching  is  thus  described  by  Dr  Olinthus 
Gregory,  his  biographer  : — 

"  Mr  Hall  began  with  hesitation,  and  often  in  a  very 
low  and  feeble  voice.     As  he  proceeded,  his  manner  be- 


specimen  of  Robert  HalVs  Style,  3CI 

came  easy,  graceful,  and  at  last  highly  impassioned ;  his 
voice  also  acquired  more  flexibility,  body,  and  sweetness ; 
and  in  all  his  happier  and  more  successful  efforts,  swelled 
into  a  stream  of  the  most  touching  and  impressive  melody. 
The  further  he  advanced,  the  more  spontaneous,  natural, 
and  free  from  labour  seemed  the  progression  of  thought. 
...  In  his  subhmer  strains  not  only  was  every  faculty  of 
the  soul  enkindled  and  in  entire  operation,  but  his  very 
features  seemed  fully  to  sympathise  with  the  spirit,  and  to 
give  out,  nay,  to  ihroiv  out,  thought  and  sentiment  and 
feeling." 

The  following  passage  from  one  of  his  sermons  will 
make  the  reflective  reader  desire  to  know  more  of  them. 
He  was  unquestionably  the  first  Nonconformist  orator  of 
the  age  : — 

"  It  remains  with  you,  then,  to  decide  whether  that  free- 
dom, at  whose  voice  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  awoke  from 
that  sleep  of  ages,  to  run  a  career  of  virtuous  emulation  in 
everything  great  and  good ;  the  freedom  which  dispelled 
the  mists  of  superstition,  and  invited  the  nations  to  behold 
their  God ;  whose  magic  touch  kindled  the  rays  of  genius, 
the  enthusiasm  of  poetry,  and  the  flow  of  eloquence; 
the  freedom  which  poured  into  our  lap  opulence  and  arts, 
and  embellished  life  with  innumerable  institutions  and 
improvements,  till  it  became  a  theatre  of  wonders — it  is 
for  you  to  decide  whether  this  freedom  shall  yet  survive, 
or  be  covered  with  a  funeral  pall,  and  wrapt  in  eternal 
gloom.  It  is  not  necessary  to  await  your  determination. 
In  the  solicitude  you  feel  to  approve  yourselves  worthy  of 
such  a  trust,  every  thought  of  what  is  afilicting  in  warfare, 
every  apprehension  of  danger  must  vanish,  and  you  are 
impatient  to  mingle  in  the  battle  of  the  civiHsed  world. 


3C2  specimen  of  Robert  Hail's  Style. 

Go,  then,  ye  defenders  of  your  country,*  accompanied 
with  every  auspicious  omen ;  advance  with  alacrity  into 
the  field,  where  God  himself  musters  the  hosts  to  war. 
Religion  is  too  much  interested  in  your  success  not  to 
lend  you  all  her  aid;  she  will  shed  over  this  enterprise  her 
selectest  influence.  While  you  are  engaged  in  the  field, 
many  will  repair  to  the  closet,  many  to  the  sanctuary ;  the 
faithful  of  every  name  will  employ  that  prayer  which  has 
power  with  God ;  the  feeble  hands,  which  are  unequal  to 
any  other  weapon,  will  grasp  the  sword  of  the  Spirit ;  and 
from  myriads  of  humble,  contrite  hearts,  the  voice  of  inter- 
cession, supplication,  and  w^eeping,  will  mingle  in  its  ascent 
to  heaven  with  the  shouts  of  battle  and  the  shock  of  arms. 
"  While  you  have  everything  to  fear  from  the  success  of 
the  enemy,  you  have  every  means  of  preventing  that  success, 
so  that  it  is  next  to  impossible  for  victory  not  to  crown 
your  exertions.  The  extent  of  your  resources,  under  God, 
is  equal  to  the  justice  of  your  cause.  But  should  provi- 
dence determine  otherwise,  should  you  fall  in  this  struggle, 
should  the  nation  fall,  you  will  have  the  satisfaction  (the 
purest  allotted  to  men)  of  having  performed  your  part ; 
your  names  will  be  enrolled  with  the  most  illustrious  dead, 
while  posterity,  to  the  end  of  time,  as  often  as  they  re- 
volve the  events  of  this  period,  (and  they  will  incessantly 
revolve  them,)  will  turn  to  you  a  reverential  eye,  while  they 
mourn  over  the  freedom  which  is  entombed  in  your 
sepulchre.  I  cannot  but  imagine  that  the  virtuous  heroes, 
legislators,  and  patriots,  of  every  age  and  country,  are 
bending  from  their  elevated  seats  to  witness  this  contest, 
as  if  they  were  incapable,  till  it  be  brought  to  a  favourable 

*  A  company  of  volunteers  attended  public  worship  on  this  occa- 
sion.— Ed. 


Robert  Hall  on  Family  Prayer.  503 

issue,  of  enjoying  their  eternal  repose.  Enjoy  that  rej^ose, 
illustrious  immortals !  Yourmantle  fell  where  you  ascended ; 
and  thousands,  inflamed  with  your  spirit  and  impatient  to 
tread  in  your  steps,  are  ready  to  swear  by  Him  that  sitteth 
upon  the  throne,  and  liveth  for  ever  and  ever,  they  will  pro- 
tect freedom  in  her  last  asylum,  and  never  desert  that 
cause  which  you  sustained  by  your  labours,  and  cemented 
■with  your  blood.  And  thou,  sole  ruler  among  the  children 
of  men,  to  whom  the  shields  of  the  earth  belong,  gird  on 
thy  stvoj'd,  thou  Most  Mighty,  go  forth  with  our  hosts  in 
the  day  of  battle  !  Impart,  in  addition  to  their  hereditary 
valour,  that  confidence  of  success  which  springs  from  thy 
presence !  Pour  into  their  hearts  the  spirit  of  departed 
heroes  !  Inspire  them  with  thine  own ;  and  while  led  by 
thine  hand,  and  fighting  under  thy  banners,  open  thou 
their  eyes  to  behold  in  every  valley,  and  in  every  plain, 
what  the  prophet  beheld  by  the  same  illumination — 
chariots  of  fire,  and  horses  of  fire  !  Then  shall  the  strojig 
man  be  as  tozv,  a7id  the  maker  of  it  as  a  spark;  and  they 
shall  both  burn  together,  and  ?ione  shall  quench  them.'" 

Mr  Hall  was  born  at  Arnsby,  near  Leicester,  May  2, 
1764.  He  was  for  some  time  the  Baptist  minister  of 
Cambridge.  He  afterwards  removed  to  Leicester,  and 
from  thence  to  Bristol,  where  he  died  in  the  year  1831. 

The  sermons  of  Robert  Hall  w^ere  not  only  remarkable 
for  close  reasoning  and  brilliant  declamation,  but  for  pro- 
verbs and  apothegms,  aptly  quoted  to  point  an  argument. 
Some  of  these  have  rem.ained  in  the  minds  of  the  hearers, 
Uke  cannon-balls  deeply  set  in  a  wall.  One  quaint  saying  of 
his  is  still  remembered  in  Leicester  :  ''  Family  prayer,  sir, 
is  the  edge  and  the  border  wdiich  keeps  the  web  of  life 
from  unravelling." 


304  Vanity  of  Clerical  Authorship. 

Robert  Hall,  desiring  a  license  to  commence  preach- 
ing, was  appointed  to  deliver  an  address  in  the  vestry  of 
Broadmead  Chapel  from  i  Tim.  iv.  10  :  "  Therefore  we 
both  labour  and  suffer  reproach,  because  we  trust  in  the 
living  God,  who  is  the  Saviour  of  all  men,  specially  of 
those  that  beheve."  After  proceeding  for  a  short  time, 
much  to  the  gratification  of  his  auditory,  he  suddenly 
paused,  and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  exclaimed, 
"  Oh  !  I  have  lost  my  ideas,"  and  sat  down,  his  hands 
still  hiding  his  face. 

The  failure,  however  painful  as  it  was  to  his  tutors  and 
humiliating  to  himself,  was  such  as  rather  augmented  than 
diminished  their  persuasion  of  what  he  could  accomplish, 
if  once  he  acquired  self-possession.  He  was  therefore  ap- 
pointed to  speak  again  on  the  same  subject,  at  the  same 
place,  the  ensuing  week. 

This  second  attempt  was  accompanied  by  a  second 
failure,  still  more  painful  to  witness,  and  still  more 
grievous  to  bear.  He  hastened  from  the  vestry,  and,  on 
retiring  to  his  room,  exclaimed,  "  If  this  does  not  humble 
me,  the  devil  must  have  me."  Such  were  the  early  efforts 
of  him  whose  humihty  afterwards  became  as  conspicuous 
as  his  talents  ;  and  who,  for  nearly  half  a  century,  excited 
universal  attention  and  admiration  by  the  splendour  of  his 
pulpit  eloquence. 

Vanity  of  Clerical  Authorship. 
A  poor  vicar  in  a  very  remote  county  had,  on  some 
popular  occasion,  preached  a  sermon  so  exceedingly 
acceptable  to  his  parishioners,  that  they  entreated  him  to 
print  it,  which,  after  due  and  solemn  deliberation,  he  pro- 
mised to  do.     This  was  the  most  remarkable  incident  in 


Vanity  of  Clerical  Aiitho7'ship.  305 

his  life,  and  filled  his  mind  with  a  thousand  fancies.  The 
conclusion,  however,  of  all  his  consultations  with  himself 
was,  that  he  should  obtain  both  fame  and  money,  and 
that  a  journey  to  the  metropolis  to  direct  and  superintend 
the  great  concern,  was  indispensable.  After  taking  a 
formal  leave  of  his  friends  and  neighbours,  he  proceeded 
on  his  journey.  On  his  arrival  in  town,  by  great  good  for- 
tune, he  was  recommended  to  the  worthy  and  excellent 
Mr  Bowyer,  to  whom  he  triumphantly  related  the  object 
of  his  journey.  The  printer  agreed  to  his  proposals,  and 
required  to  know  how  many  copies  he  would  choose  to 
have  struck  off.  "  Why,  sir,"  returned  the  clergyman,  "  I 
have  calculated  that  there  are  in  the  kingdom  so  many 
thousand  parishes,  and  that  each  parish  will  at  least  take 
one,  and  others  more  ;  so  that  I  think  we  may  venture  to 
print  about  thirty-five  or  thirty-six  thousand  copies." 
The  printer  bowed,  the  matter  was  settled,  and  the  rever- 
end author  departed  in  high  spirits  to  his  home.  With 
much  difficulty  and  great  self-denial,  a  period  of  about  two 
months  was  suffered  to  pass,  when  his  golden  visions  so  tor- 
mented his  imagination  that  he  could  endure  it  no  longer, 
and  accordingly  wrote  to  Mr  Bowyer  desiring  him  to  send 
the  debtor  and  creditor  account,  most  liberally  permitting 
the  remittances  to  be  forwarded  at  Mr  B.'s  convenience. 
Judge  of  the  astonishment,  tribulation,  and  anguish,  ex- 
cited by  the  receipt  of  the  following  account,  or  something 
very  much  resembling  it : — 

The  Rev^. Dr.  £    s.    d. 

To   printing   and    paper,    35,000   copies    of 

sermon, 785     5     6 

Cr.   By  the  sale  of  17  copies  of  said  sermon,  156 

Balance  due  to  Mr  Bowyer,  .         .         .    784     o     o 

u 


3o6  Pulpit  Flattery. 


They  who  know  the  character  of  this  most  aniiable  and 
excellent  printer,  will  not  be  at  all  surprised  to  hear  that, 
in  a  day  or  two,  a  letter  to  the  following  purport  was  for- 
warded to  the  clergyman  : — "  Rev.  sir, — I  beg  pardon  for 
innocently  amusing  myself  at  your  expense,  but  you  need 
not  give  yourself  uneasiness.  I  knew  better  than  you 
could  do  the  extent  of  the  sale  of  single  sermons,  and 
accordingly  printed  but  fifty  copies,  to  the  expense  of 
which  you  are  heartily  welcome,  in  return  for  the  liberty  I 
have  taken  with  you,"  &c.,  &c. 

Pulpit  Flattery. 
One  of  the  first  acts  performed  by  George  III.,  after  his 
accession  to  the  throne,  was  to  issue  an  order  prohibiting 
any  of  the  clergy  who  should  be  called  to  preach  before 
him,  from  paying  him  any  compliment  in  their  discourses. 
His  Majesty  was  led  to  this  from  the  fulsome  adulation 
which  Dr  Thomas  Wilson,  prebendary  of  Westminster, 
thought  proper  to  deliver  in  the  Chapel  Royal ;  and  for 
which,  instead  of  thanks,  he  received  from  his  royal  audi- 
tor a  pointed  reprimand,  his  Majesty  observing  "  that  he 
came  to  chapel  to  hear  the  praises  of  God,  and  not  his 
own."  This  circumstance  operated  wonderfully  on  the 
reverend  orator,  as  from  that  moment  he  became  a  flaming 
patriot.  The  Doctor  took  part  with  Wilkes,  was  made 
liveryman  of  the  Joiners'  Company,  and  lavished  large  sums 
upon  Mrs  Macauley,  the  republican  historian,  in  whose 
honour  he  caused  a  small  statue  to  be  erected  in  his 
church  at  Walbrook  ;  though  before  he  died  he  ordered 
it  to  be  removed,  not  indeed  so  much  from  a  sense  of  the 
impropriety  of  the  thing,  as  out  of  resentment  to  the  lady, 
who  had  displeased  him  by  her  marriage. 


The  Good  Preacher —  Whimsical  Interruption,        307 

The  Good  Preacher, 
*'  Would  I  describe  a  preacher  such  as  Paul, 
Were  he  on  earth,  would  hear,  approve,  and  own, 
Paul  should  himself  direct  me.     I  would  trace 
His  master-strokes,  and  draw  from  his  design  j 
I  would  express  him  simple,  grave,  sincere ; 
In  doctrine  uncorrupt ;  in  language  plain, 
And  plain  in  manner ;  decent,  solemn,  chaste, 
And  natural  in  gesture  ;  much  impress'd 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge, 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too  ;  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  man." 

Cowper's  Task,  b.  ii. 

Whi7nsical  Interruption, 
When  Dr  Bradon  was  rector  of  Eltham,  in  Kent,  the 
text  he  one  day  took  to  preach  from  was,  "  Who  art 
thou  ^"  After  reading  the  text,  he  made  (as  was  his  cus- 
tom) a  pause,  for  the  congregation  to  reflect  upon  the 
words ;  when  a  gentleman  in  a  military  dress,  who  at  the 
instant  was  marching  very  sedately  up  the  middle  aisle  of 
the  church,  supposing  it  a  question  addressed  to  him,  to 
the  surprise  of  all  present,  replied  : — "  I  am,  sir,  an  officer 
of  the  seventeenth  regiment  of  foot,  on  a  recruiting  party 
here  j  and  having  brought  my  wife  and  family  with  me,  I 
wish  to  be  acquainted  with  the  neighbouring  clergy  and 
gentry."  This  so  deranged  the  divine  and  astonished  the 
congregation,  that  though  they  attempted  to  listen  with 
decorum,  he  could  not  continue  the  discourse  without  con- 
siderable difliculty. 


3© 8  Eledioneerijig  Sermon. 

Eledioneeriiig  Sei^mon. 
At  an  election  for  the  town  of  Bedford,  Mr  Whitebread 
and  Howard  the  philanthropist  were  opposed  to  Sir  W. 
Wake  and  a  Mr  Sparro7v.  A  clergyman  of  the  EstabHshed 
Church,  a  warm  supporter  of  the  former  candidates,  one 
Sunday  morning,  during  the  heat  of  the  election,  took  for 
his  text  that  passage  of  St  Matthew's  Gospel  in  which  the 
question  is  proposed  by  our  Lord  to  his  disciples,  "  Are 
not  two  Sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing]"  Whence  this 
encouragement  to  their  perseverance  and  their  faith 
deduced  :  *'  Fear  ye  not,  therefore,  ye  are  of  more  value 
than  many  Sparrows^ 

THE  REV.  MR  FAWKES. 

The  Rev.  Mr  Fawkes,  in  the  year  1739,  being  at  that 
time  curate  of  Doncaster,  thought  fit  to  preach  a  sermon 
on  the  erection  of  an  organ  in  the  church.  After  having 
wound  up  his  imagination  to  the  highest  pitch,  in  praise  of 
church  music,  he  adds,  addressing  himself  to  the  organ, 
*'  But  what !  O  what !  what  shall  I  call  thee  by  %  thou 
divine  box  of  sound  !" 

Ingenious  Method  of  Exciting  Attention. 
A  clergyman  preaching  a  charity  sermon,  Feb.  4,  1778, 
at  a  church  in  the  City  of  London,  during  his  discourse 
pulled  out  of  his  pocket  a  newspaper,  and  read  from  it  the 
following  paragraph,  viz. — "On  Sunday  the  18th  of  January, 
two  ponies  run  on  the  Uxbridge  road,  twenty  miles  for 
twenty  guineas,  and  one  gained  it  by  about  half  a  head  ; 
both  ponies  ridden  by  their  owners."  Also  another  para- 
graph of  the  same  kind,  of  a  race  on  the  Romford  road 
on  a  Sunday.     He  made  an  apology  for  reading  part  of 


William  Himiingdon.  309 

a  newspaper  in  the  pulpit,  said  he  beheved  it  was  the  first 
instance  of  the  kind,  and  he  sincerely  wished  there  never 
might  be  occasion  for  the  like  again.  He  then  pointed 
out  the  heinous  sin  of  Sabbath-breaking. 

WILLIAM  HUNTINGDON 

Published  an  account  of  himself,  which  he  called  "  God  the 
Guardian  of  the  Poor,  and  the  Bank  of  Faith."  His  name 
was  William  Huntingdon,  and  he  styled  himself  S.  S.,  which 
signified  Sinnner  Saved.  The  tale  which  this  man  told  was 
truly  curious.  He  was  originally  a  coal-heaver,  but  finding 
praying  and  preaching  a  more  profitable  trade,  he  ventured 
upon  the  experiment  of  living  by  faith  alone  ;  and  the 
experiment  answered.  The  man  had  talents,  and  soon 
obtained  hearers.  It  was  easy  to  let  them  know,  without 
asking  for  either,  that  he  relied  upon  them  for  food  and 
clothing.  At  first,  supplies  came  in  slowly — a  pound  of 
tea  and  a  pound  of  sugar  at  a  time,  and  sometimes  an 
old  suit  of  clothes.  As  he  got  more  hearers,  they  found 
out  that  it  was  for  their  credit  he  should  make  a  better 
appearance  in  the  world.  If  at  any  time  things  did  not 
come  when  they  were  wanted,  he  prayed  for  them,  know- 
ing well  when  his  prayers  would  be  heard.  As  a  specimen, 
take  a  story  which  is  annexed  in  his  own  words  : — ''  Having 
now  had  my  horse  for  some  time,  and  riding  a  great  deal 
every  week,  I  soon  wore  my  breeches  out,  as  they  were  not 
fit  to  ride  in.  I  hope  the  reader  will  excuse  me  mention- 
ing the  word  breeches^  which  1  should  have  avoided,  had 
not  this  passage  of  Scripture  intruded  into  my  mind,  just 
as  I  bad  resolved  in  my  mind  not  to  mention  this  kind 
providence  of  God.  '  And  thou  shalt  make  linen  breeches 
to  cover  their  nakedness,  from  the  loins  even  unto  the 


310  William  Himtifigdon. 

thighs  shall  they  reach/  &c.  Exod.  xxviii.  42,  43.  By  which 
and  three  others,  (namely  Ezek.  xliv.  18,  Lev.  vi.  10, 
and  xvi.  4,)  I  saw  that  it  was  no  crime  to  mention  the 
word  breeches,  nor  the  way  in  which  God  sent  them  to  me. 
Aaron  and  his  sons  being  clothed  entirely  by  Providence  ; 
and  as  God  himself  condescended  to  give  orders  what  they 
should  be  made  of,  and  how  they  should  be  cut,  and  I 
believe  the  same  God  ordered  mine,  as  I  trust  it  will 
appear  in  the  following  history.  The  Scripture  tells  us  to 
call  no  man  master,  for  one  is  our  master,  even  Christ.  I 
therefore  told  my  most  bountiful  and  ever-adored  master 
what  I  wanted,  and  He  who  stripped  Adam  and  Eve  of 
their  fig-leaved  aprons,  and  made  coats  of  skins  and 
clothed  them,  and  who  clothes  the  grass  of  the  field, 
which  to-day  is,  and  tomorrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  must 
clothe  us,  or  we  shall  soon  go  naked  :  and  so  Israel  found 
it  when  God  took  away  his  wool  and  his  flax,  which  they 
prepared  for  Baal,  for  which  iniquity  were  their  skirts  dis- 
covered, and  their  heels  made  bare,  Jeremiah  xiii.  22.  I 
often  made  very  free  in  my  prayers  with  my  valuable 
Master  for  this  favour,  but  He  still  kept  me  so  amazingly 
poor,  that  I  could  not  get  them  at  any  rate.  At  last  I  was 
determined  to  go  to  a  friend  of  mine  at  Kingston,  who  is 
of  that  branch  of  business,  to  bespeak  a  pair;  and  to  get 
him  to  trust  me  until  my  Master  sent  me  money  to  pay 
him.  I  was  that  day  going  to  London,  fully  determined  to 
bespeak  them  as  I  rode  through  the  town.  However, 
when  I  passed  the  shop  I  forgot  it ;  but'  when  I  came  to 
London,  I  called  on  Mr  Crowder,  a  shoemaker  in  Shep- 
herd's Market,  who  told  me  a  parcel  was  left  there  for  me, 
but  what  it  was  he  knew  not ;  I  opened  it,  and  behold 
there  was  a  pair  of  leather  breeches  with  a  note  in  them, 


Huniingdoii^ s  Self-assurance.  311 


the  substance  of  which  was^  to  the  best  of  ray  remembrance, 
as  follows : — '  Sir,  I  have  sent  you  a  pair  of  breeches,  and 
hope  they  will  fit.  I  beg  your  acceptance  of  them  ;  and 
if  they  want  any  alteration,  leave  in  a  note  what  the  alter- 
ation is,  and  I  will  call  in  a  few  days  and  alter  them,  I.  S.' 
I  tried  them  on,  and  they  fitted  as  well  as  if  I  had  been 
measured  for  them ;  at  which  I  was  amazed,  having  never 
been  measured  by  any  leather  breeches  maker  in  London. 
I  wrote  an  answer  to  the  note  to  this  effect.  '  Sir,  I  re- 
ceived your  present,  and  thank  you  for  it.  I  was  going  to 
order  a  pair  of  leather  breeches  to  be  made,  because  I  did 
not  know  till  now  that  my  Master  had  bespoke  them  of 
you.  They  fit  very  well ;  which  fully  convinces  me  that 
the  same  God  who  moved  thy  heart  to  give,  guided  thy 
hand  to  cut :  because  He  perfectly  knows  my  size,  having 
clothed  me  in  a  miraculous  manner  for  near  five  years. 
When  you  are  in  trouble,  sir,  I  hope  you  wdll  tell  my 
Master  of  this,  and  what  you  have  done  for  me,  and  He 
will  repay  you  with  honour.'  This  is  as  nearly  as  I  am 
able  to  relate  it,  and  I  added,  '  I  cannot  make  out  I.  S., 
unless  I  put  I.  for  Israelite  indeed,  and  S.  for  Sincerity : 
because  you  did  not  '  sound  a  trumpet  before  you  as  the 
hypocrites  do.'  About  that  time  twelvemonths  I  got 
another  pair  of  breeches  in  the  same  extraordinary  man- 
ner, without  my  ever  being  measured  for  them." 

Step  by  step,  by  drawing  on  his  Master,  as  he  called  Him, 
and  persuading  the  congregation  to  accept  his  drafts,  this 
Sinner  Saved  got  two  chapels  of  his  ov/n,  a  house  in  the 
country,  and  a  coach  to  carry  him  backwards  and  forwards. 

"  During  the  space  of  three  years,"  says  Mr  Huntingdon, 
"  I  secretly  wished  in  my  soul  that  God  would  favour  me 
with  a  chapel  of  my  own,  being  sick  of  the  errors  that 


312  Huntingdon's  Success. 

were  perpetually  broached  by  some  one  or  other  in  Mar- 
garet Street  Chapel,'"'  where  I  then  preached.  But  though 
I  so  much  desired  this,  yet  I  could  not. 

"  I  will  now  inform  my  reader  of  the  kind  providence 
of  my  God,  at  the  time  of  building  my  new  chapel,  which 
I  named  Providence  Chapel,  and  also  mention  a  few  free- 
will offerings  which  the  people  brought. 

"The  name  that  I  gave  to  the  chapel  has  offended 
many.  However,  since  it  was  named,  I  have  seen  a  place 
called  Providence  Court,  and  a  chapel  called  Trinity 
Chapel,  where  the  Trinity  is  little  known,  I  believe.  This 
was  not  the  case  at  the  naming  of  Providence  Chapel. 

"  But  to  return.  They  first  offered  about  eleven  pounds, 
and  laid  it  on  the  foundation  at  the  beginning  of  the  build- 
ing. A  good  gentleman,  with  whom  I  had  but  little 
acquaintance,  and  of  whom  I  bought  a  load  of  timber, 
sent  it  in  with  a  bill  and  receipt  in  full,  as  a  present  to 
the  Chapel  of  Providence.  Another  good  man  came, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  blessed  me,  and  desired  to 
paint  my  pulpit,  desk,  (&:c.,  as  a  present  to  the  chapel. 
Another  person  gave  half-a-dozen  chairs  for  the  vestry; 
and  my  friends,  Mr  and  Mrs  Lyons,  furnished  me  with 
a  tea-chest  well  stored,  and  a  set  of  china.  My  good 
friends,  Mr  and  Mrs  Smith,  furnished  me  with  a  very 
handsome  bed,  bedstead,  and  all  its  furniture  and  neces- 
saries, that  I  might  not  be  under  the  necessity  of  walking 
home  in  the  cold  winter  nights.  A  daughter  of  mine  in 
the  faith  gave  me  a  looking-glass  for  my  chapel  study; 
another  friend  gave  me  my  pulpit  cushion  and  a  book- 
case for  my  study ;  another  gave  me  a  book-case  for  the 

*  Where  now  stands  the  stately  and  celebrated  church  of  All  Saints, 
Margaret  Street,  Cavendish  Square. 


The  Ret).  William  Howels. 


313 


vestry.  And  my  good  friend,  Mr  E.,  seemed  to  level  all 
his  displeasure  at  the  devil ;  for  he  was  in  hopes  I  should 
be  enabled,  through  the  gracious  arm  of  the  Lord,  to  cut 
Rahab  in  pieces.  Therefore  he  furnished  me  with  a 
sword  of  the  Spirit — a  new  Bible,  with  morocco  binding 
and  silver  clasps." 

THE   REV.  WILLIAM  HOWELS, 

For  mai\y  years  the  minister  of  the  Episcopal  Chapel, 
Long  Acre,  London,  was  born  near  Cowbridge,  in  Glamor- 
ganshire, in  the  year  1777.  He  stands  conspicuous  in  the 
group  of  devout  men  who  commenced  and  formed  the 
evangelical  party  in  the  Church  of  England — such  as 
Cecil,  Simeon,  Venn,  John  Newton.  Like  many  other 
eminent  persons — such  as  St  Augustine  and  St  Bernard, 
Bishop  Hall  and  Richard  Hooker — he  left  on  record  his 
grateful  acknowledgments  to  the  care  of  his  pious  mother. 
The  character  of  Mr  Howels'  preaching  has  thus  been 
described  by  one  of  the  most  eminent  living  orators  of 
the  Church,  the  Rev.  Canon  Melvill : — 

''  Mr  Howels  possessed  a  mind  of  uncommon  power  ; 
whilst  others  were  passing  on  slowly,  step  by  step,  he 
could  leap  at  once  to  the  conclusion.  Logical  in  the 
arrangement  of  his  thoughts,  but  quick-sighted  to  discern 
truths  afar  off,  he  knew  how  to  lead  others  from  stage  to 
stage,  but  needed  not  for  himself  the  intermediate  demon- 
stration. His  faculties  were  of  that  class  which  would 
have  pre-eminently  qualified  him  for  mathematical  inves- 
tigation. And  when  these  faculties  were  turned  on  theo- 
logy, they  enabled  him  to  bring  out  truths  in  such  con- 
densed and  concentrated  form,  that  less  powerful  minds 
could  not  receive  it  till  broken  up  and  expanded.     The 


314  -^/^^  ReiK  William  Howeh. 

style,  whether  of  his  preaching  or  conversation,  accorded 
precisely  with  the  character  of  his  mind.  It  was  a  sen- 
tentious style ;  one  of  his  paragraphs  would  have  been 
another  man's  sermon.  His  ideas  were  great  ideas ;  and 
when  they  struggled  forth  in  their  naked  and  unadorned 
grandeur,  there  was  a  nervousness  in  his  speech  which 
vastly  more  than  compensated  the  want  of  the  beauties 
of  a  highly  polished  diction.  Yet  he  required  to  be  heard 
often  to  be  duly  appreciated.  He  was  a  preacher  who, 
of  all  others,  grew  upon  his  hearers.  The  stranger  who 
came  once  might  go  away  disappointed  j  but  each  suc- 
ceeding time  he  would  be  admitted  so  much  further  into 
the  mind  of  the  speaker,  that  he  would  quickly  refer  his 
disappointment  to  his  own  want  of  discernment. 

There  never  was  a  preacher  who  more  magnified 
Christ,  and  never  one  who  more  insisted  upon  holiness. 
He  would  show  the  sinner  at  the  gate  of  hell,  and  then, 
introducing  the  Saviour,  lift  him  to  the  gate  of  heaven. 
He  held,  in  all  its  fulness,  the  doctrine  of  election,  but 
flung  from  him,  as  dishonouring  to  God,  a  being  of  gratui- 
tous love  but  not  of  gratuitous  hatred,  the  doctrine  of 
reprobation.  And  whilst  he  believed  in  the  predestination 
of  God's  people,  how  he  would  insist  on  human  respon- 
sibleness  !  He  knew  that  free  agency  was  essential  to 
man's  being  accountable  for  his  actions ;  and  he  therefore 
held  no  terms  with  systems  which  reduce  man  virtually  to 
nothing  but  a  machine.  He  took,  moreover,  the  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith,  in  all  its  power  and  all  its  simpli- 
city. He  allowed  nothing  to  be  mixed  with  it.  But  then, 
a  faith  not  productive  of  holiness,  a  faith  not  working  by 
love,  he  spurned  the  thought  as  an  absurdity.  Whilst 
preaching  tliat  man  is  justified  by  faith,  he  pursued  sin 


specimen  of  HoweVs  Style.  315 

into  all  its  corners  and  doublings,  and,  according  to  an 
expression  of  his  own,  summoned  believers  to  take  no 
quarter  from  the  world,  and  to  give  none  ;  and  what  he 
preached  he  practised.  I  know  he  must  have  had  faults, 
because  he  was  but  a  man ;  but  I  am  bold  to  say  that, 
though  I  knew  his  singularities,  I  did  not  know  his  faults. 
Without  question  he  had  them,  and  he  was  conscious  of 
them.  I  remember  his  speaking  of  the  dangers  of  minis- 
ters. He  said  that,  when  preparing  sermons  for  others,  he 
found  himself  in  danger  of  destroying  his  own  soul.  If 
the  confession  showed  that  intellectual  pride  would  some- 
times struggle  for  the  ascendancy,  it  also  showed  that  he 
was  on  his  guard  against  the  enemy ;  and  a  Christian  on 
his  guard  is  a  Christian  half  a  conqueror." 

The  following  passages  will  give  some  notion  of  his 
method,  but  not  convey  an  idea  of  the  vehemence,  pathos, 
and  unction  with  which  they  were  delivered  : — 

"  I  John  iii.  16.  We  are  not  called  upon  to  lay  down 
our  lives  for  the  brethren  ;  but  we  are  commanded  to 
seek  their  good  upon  all  occasions ;  to  execute  their  slan- 
derer, and  pull  out  the  tongues  of  the  backbiter,  and  to 
ask  him.  Have  you  any  objection  that  these  things  should 
be  fairly  and  clearly  represented  to  him  whom  they  con- 
cern? It  was  well  said  by  Dr  Southey,  that  the  tale- 
teller and  the  tale-hearer  should  be  hung  back  to  back — 
one  by  his  tongue,  the  other  by  his  ears.  I  am  not  fond 
of  executions,  but  I  think  I  would  like  to  see  this." 

" '  I  will  maintain  my  own  integrity,'  said  Job.  There 
are  many  little  Jobs  here  at  the  present  moment :  perhaps 
I  am  one.  Well  done  I.  This  is  Satan's  opportunity; 
the  devil  shoots  flying ;  when  we  soar,  he  takes  his  suc- 
cessful aim  j  when  in  the  dust,  we  are  safe  from  his  attack. 


3 1 6  Specimen  of  Howel  V  Style. 

The  child  climbing  up  the  chairs  excites  the  alarm  of  his 
parents,  who  immediately  run  to  his  aid ;  but  when 
replaced  on  the  carpet,  they  know  that  their  child  is  safe." 

*' There  are  two  errors  abroad,  both  equally  awful. 
Some  conceive  God  to  be  all  mercy ;  some  believe  him 
all  holiness  and  justice  ;  some  elevate  mercy  and  grace  at 
the  expense  of  justice ;  some  the  contrary.  Many  look 
to  decrees  alone,  and  before  they  do  anything,  travel  back 
to  see  what  interest  they  have  in  the  book  of  life.  This 
is  hke  a  child  refusing  to  learn  his  letters  because  he  does 
not  know  how  to  read."  .... 

"Acts  xiv.  19.  The  men  who  were  about  to  worship 
St  Paul  one  day,  stoned  him  and  left  him  for  dead  the 
day  following.  My  young  friends,  you  will  meet  many  in 
life  who  profess  the  greatest  friendship  ;  prove  them 
before  you  trust  them.  Human  nature  is  fickle,  and 
many  of  them  might  be  among  your  bitterest  enemies.  I 
by  no  means  speak  against  your  forming  friendships ; 
quite  the  reverse.  God  never  intended  we  should  be 
stoics;  cling  to  a  friend  when  you  meet  him.  None 
ever  tasted  human  solace  with  more  pleasure  than  the 
Saviour;  none  ever  sucked  the  honeycomb  of  human 
friendship  with  more  gratification  than  Jesus !  None  of 
you  wish  to  be  pious  monsters."  .... 

"  Man  is  invariably  a  fool  till  the  wisdom  of  God  en- 
lightens his  soul.  Let  him  fathom  the  depths  of  science 
and  mathematics,  and  though  he  treads  the  surface  of  the 
sky,  measures  the  limits  of  space,  and  discovers  worlds 
which  Herschel  never  saw,  still  is  he  a  fool  till  knowledge 
from  on  high  takes  possession  of  his  soul.  I  cannot  help 
entertaining  the  idea  that  the  redeemed,  besides  being 
eminently  holy,  shall  also  be  eminently  scientific :  their 


The  First  Wesley  an  Methodist  Triumvirate.         3 1 7 

eyes  shall  be  opened  to  behold  unnumbered  worlds ;  they 
shall  stretch  their  ideas  far  beyond  what  telescopes  could 
reach.  God  shall  make  room  in  their  breasts  for  these 
things  besides  infinite  holiness  and  infinite  love."  .... 

"  I  Pet.  i.  2.  The  foreknowledge  of  God  implies 
nothing  more  than  the  love  of  God  from  all  eternity.  You 
cannot  beat  election  into  the  head ;  it  is  a  matter  of  the 
heart.  I  do  not  like  controversy,  but  if  obliged  to  argue 
on  the  subject,  I  would  sift  the  heart,  as  I  once  did  with 
a  Quaker,  who  used  to  tell  me,  '  I  can  do  this  thing  and 
that  thing,  and  restrain  from  such  other  thing.'  Well, 
then,  I  replied,  and  when  you  do  this  and  that,  and  restrain 
from  the  other,  you  plume  yourself  on  your  own  power, 
you  exalt  yourself,  and  say,  '  Well  done  I,'  and  not,  '  Well 
done  God.'  He  was  immediately  convinced.  It  is  thus 
you  should  sift  the  hearts,  and  not  try  to  drive  the  doctrine 
into  the  head,  which  is  out  of  your  power :  convince  men 
of  the  infernality  of  their  hearts,  and  then  they  will  love 
the  doctrine  of  election.  The  decree  of  election  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  save  men,  and  the  Bible,  in  the 
clearest  language,  proclaims  such  a  decree ;  but  there  is 
not  the  shadow  of  a  decree  to  drive  men  from  God  :  the 
sinner  in  hell  will  have  to  confess  that  he  is  a  suicide." 

The  First  Wesleyan  Alethodist  Triumvij-ate. 
On  the  death  of  Mr  Wesley  there  arose  three  distin- 
guished men  to  continue  his  work.     Their  names  were — 

SAMUEL  BRADBURN. 

His  divine  Master  having  endowed  him  with  extraordinary 
gifts  for  the  work  of  the  ministry,  he  soon  became  remark- 
ably popular,  and    it  was  frequently  with   pleasure   that 


3 1 8  Coldc7i  Mules  for  a  Preacher. 


thousands  listened  to  his  discourses.  Tor  several  years, 
he  was  considered  not  only  as  one  of  the  first  preachers 
in  the  land,  for  all  the  higher  powers  of  persuasive  elo- 
quence, but  as  a  faithful  labourer  in  the  vineyard  of  the 
Lord.  Bradburn  wrote  some  remarkably  good  rules  for 
preachers  and  preaching.     He  died  July  26,  18 16. 

Some  General  Rules  to  be  observed  iii  preparing  for  the 
Pulpit. 

1.  Never  be  anywhere,  nor  in  any  temper  that  would 
unfit  you  for  preaching.  It  is  a  reproach  to  a  minister  of 
Jesus  Christ  to  have  at  any  time  to  say  I  am  not  prepared 
to  preach. 

2.  Have  always  a  number  of  texts  on  a  slip  of  paper  in 
your  pocket,  as  a  corps  de  reserve,  with  the  subjects  of 
which  you  are  well  acquainted,  so  that  you  can  never  be 
taken  by  surprise. 

3.  In  studying  a  sermon  in  your  common  dut}^,  be  more 
concerned  about  what  the  people  stand  in  need  of  than 
about  gaining  their  applause  for  having  preached  a  fine, 
useless  sermon. 

4.  It  is  not  easy  always  to  have  the  mind  determined  on 
the  text,  so  that  it  is  sometimes  perplexed  in  the  midst  of 
variety  what  to  choose,  even  during  singing  and  prayer. 
In  this  case  be  firm  before  you  take  the  pulpit,  and,  as 
much  as  possible,  in  fixing,  fix. 

5.  If  possible,  be  alone  an  hour,  and  in  the  pulpit  five 
minutes  before  the  time,  that  you  may  be  in  the  spirit  of 
preaching,  and  have  Christ  with  you. 

Some  General  Rules  to  be  observed  in  Preachifig. 
I.  Remember  you  are  speaking  for  God.     Keep  a  sense 


Golden  Rules  for  a  Preacher.  319 

of  His  presence  on  your  mind,  that  you  may  say  nothing 
unbecoming  the  dignity  of  a  Christian  minister. 

2.  Never  lose  the  absoUite  command  of  your  voice  and 
temper.  Avoid  every  appearance  of  haughtiness  and  rash 
anger.  If  doors  should  be  violently  shut  when  people 
come  in  late,  or  if  dogs  should  run  about,  and  children 
cry,  or  whatever  disturbance  may  be  made,  recollect  in- 
stantly where  and  who  you  are,  that  you  may  not  speak 
one  unguarded  word.  The  people  who  assemble  to  hear 
the  Word  of  God  from  you,  demand  from  you,  at  least, 
respectful  treatment. 

3.  Speak,  if  possible,  so  as  to  be  heard  by  all  present 
who  are  not  deaf.  Look,  when  you  give  out  the  page  of 
the  hymn-book,  to  the  farthest  person,  and  you  will  easily 
perceive  if  he  hear  you,  and,  of  course,  how  you  are  to 
regulate  your  voice.  Should  the  place  require  a  louder 
voice  than  usual,  speak  more  deliberately,  so  as  to  preserve 
a  steady  command  of  the  attention  of  your  hearers,  with- 
out injuring  the  beauty  of  your  discourse,  or  being  out  of 
breath.     You  cannot  long  speak  loud  and/^j-/. 

4.  Always  suppose  men  present  who  may  hold  opinions 
opposite  to  yours,  and  that  they  are  sensible,  learned  men. 
This  will  have  a  good  effect  in  guarding  you  against  assert- 
ing anything  rashly,  or  without  the  best  proof  you  can 
produce  in  favour  of  your  thesis.  Yet  beware  of  disguis- 
ing your  real  sentiments,  however  you  may  respect  your 
auditory.  "  The  fear  of  men  bringeth  a  snare."  You 
may  speak  with  becoming  modesty  and  candour,  and  yet 
use  great  plainness  of  speech.  Say  nothing  merely  to  irri- 
tate a  supposed  adversary,  as  provoking  language  is  no 
argument,  and  "  the  wrath  of  man  worketh  not  the 
righteousness  of  God."     In  general,  observe  a  proper  dis- 


320  Golden  Rules  for  a  Preacher. 


tinction  between  doctrines  and  J>ersons :  argue  upon  one, 
but  speak  sparingly  of  the  other. 

5.  Be  truly  humble  in  your  own  soul,  as  if  Jesus  Christ 
were  visible  with  you  in  the  pulpit.  Feel  your  total  insuffi- 
ciency to  do  any  good  without  the  aid  of  His  Spirit.  At 
the  same  time,  avoid  the  despicable  affectation  of  pretend- 
ing to  think  yourself  unfit  to  be  so  employed.  This  sort 
of  cant  is  generally  considered  by  judicious  hearers  as 
mere  egotism,  and  a  contemptible  way  of  fishing  for  praise. 
Even  in  prayer  before  the  sermon  do  not  draw  the  atten- 
tion of  the  people  to  yourself,  by  mentioning  your  own 
unworthiness,  calling  yourself,  in  speaking  to  God,  Thy 
Jfoor  dnsl,  Thy  univorthy  woj^m,  &c.  Strive  to  draw  the 
attention  of  all  present  to  j^our  subject,  not  to  yourself  in 
any  way,  nor  on  any  account. 

6.  In  your  manner  of  preaching  beware  of  making 
apologies  for  what  you  have  said,  or  are  going  to  say. 
To  apologise  to  7nan  for  delivering  to  him  a  message  from 
God  must  be  utterly  improper.  If  you  "  speak  as  the 
oracles  of  God,"  you  will  need  no  apology ;  if  you  do  not,  no 
apology  can  excuse  you.  With  a  manly,  becoming  firm- 
ness, be  at  home  in  the  pulpit,  feeling  a  degree  of  confi- 
dence in  your  own  ability  to  tread  with  propriety  the  argu- 
mentative part  of  your  subject.  And  being  satisfied  as  to 
the  uprightness  of  your  design  and  motive,  expect  without 
fear  or  doubt  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  your 
work.  With  the  honour  of  Jesus  Christ  and  the  good  of 
mankind  in  view,  feel  the  importance  of  all  you  say,  and 
enforce  it  with  zeal  and  energy,  ever  attentive  to  the  sacred 
suggestion  of  the  divine  Spirit  enlightening  your  mind, 
helping  your  memory,  and  affecting  your  heart ;  still  recol- 
lecting that  "  no  rhapsody,  no  incoherency,  whether  the 


Golden  Rules  for  a  Preacher.  321 

things  spoken  be  true  or  false,  cometh  of  the  Spirit  of 
Christ."     (See  Wesley  on  Matt.  v.  9.) 

7.  As  explaining  the  holy  Scriptures  is  one  grand  part 
of  a  holy  minister's  work,  take  care  that  you  attempt 
nothing  of  the  kind  till  you  have  examined  thoroughly  the 
clear  dew^full  meaning  of  the  Holy  Ghost  according  to  the 
utmost  of  your  powers,  using  every  help  you  can  get  to 
this  end.  Beware  of  allegorising,  or,  as  some  call  it, 
spiritualising,  lest  the  true  sense  of  the  divine  Word  should 
be  lost  in  the  figurative,  which  proves  nothing.  Therefore, 
whatever  dochHnes  are  to  be  believed,  whatever  duties  are 
to  be  performed,  or  whatever  points  of  inward  religion  are 
to  be  experienced,  have  well-chosen  texts  to  confirm  what 
you  advance.  The  truths  being  thus  established,  you  may 
endeavour  to  impress  them  on  the  minds  and  hearts  of 
your  hearers  by  historical  facts,  by  the  illustration  of 
figures,  parables,  allegories,  similes,  and  various  compari- 
sons ;  nor  fear  using  the  full  force  of  language,  adorned 
with  all  the  fire  of  poetry,  and  the  beauties  of  a  glowing 
iiT^agination.  No  ;  nor  when  rightly  managed,  shrink  from 
giving  free  scope  to  your  active  and  feeling  powers,  in  the 
richest  charms  of  pulpit  eloquence.  Only  remember,  be- 
fore you  begin  to  enforce  or  apply  anything,  it  must  be 
clearly  defined  and  proved  in  a  calm  and  rational  manner, 
with  all  the  cool  firmness  of  a  Christian  philosopher.  In 
eveVy  part  of  your  pulpit  engagements,  be  neither  an  air- 
balloon  nor  a  steam  engine;  but  be  as  the  moon  laalking  i?i 
brightness^  and  as  the  Lord  in  all  His  glory. 

8.  Keep  in  mind,  on  all  occasions,  that  though  your 
subject  is,  above  all  others,  important  to  rational  and  im- 
mortal beings,  yet  you  are  speaking  to  those  who  are 
encompassed  with  human  frailties,  and  engaged  in  various 

X 


32  2  Dr  Adam  Clarke. 


callings  in  the  world,  so  that  they  have,  in  general,  neither 
time  nor  taste  for  lo7ig  sermons.  How  seldom  do  any  per- 
sons complain  of  the  shortness  of  a  sermon ;  how  often 
of  its  being  too  long!  What  a  fool  then  is  he  who  spends 
his  time  and  strength  merely  to  be  blamed  !  Besides,  long 
preaching  is  mostly  owing  to  the  subject  not  being  studied 
enough.  Nor  must  you  forget  that  mere  preaching,  be 
the  matter  ever  so  good,  is  no  part  of  the  worship  of  God. 
And  as  the  worship  of  God — namely,  praise,  thanksgivi?igi 
adoration,  and  prayer — is  the  grand  design  of  Christian 
assemblies,  or  ought  to  be  so,  then  be  sure  always  to  con- 
clude your  sermon  so  as  to  leave  time  for  singing  and 
prayer.  In  general,  on  the  lueek  nights,  a  sermon  should 
not  exceed  half-an-hour,  or  thii^ty-five  minutes.  The  same 
after  dinner.  On  '^iXm^dLy,  forenoon  and  evening,  it  may  be 
forty-five  or  fifty  minutes ;  certainly,  unless  on  some  very 
extraordinary  occasion,  the  sermon  ought  to  be  finished 
under  the  hour.  Consider  yourself,  and  remember  what 
you  have  felt  on  hearing  long  sermons. 

Upon  the  whole,  let  the  use  of  your  sermon  appear  to 
your  hearers.  Let  your  terms  be  clear  and  simple,  and 
your  manner  loving,  yet  forcible  and  dignified.  Better 
always  to  be  twenty  mimctes  under  than  one  mijiute  over  the 
hour.  Beware  of  long  introductions  and  definitions. 
Leave  room  for  a  close  and  warm  application. 

Oh,  my  God  and  Saviour,  assist  me ! 

I  first  drew  up  these  rules  in  the  city  of  Cork,  in  Ireland, 
in  the  year  1779. 

ADAM    CLARKE,    LL.D. 

The  ability  and  fervent  zeal  with  which  for  so  many 
years  he  preached  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God,  and  so 


Di'  Adam  Clarke's  PreacJiing.  323 

enraptured  thousands  in  almost  every  part  of  the  United 
Kingdom,  will  long  be  remembered  with  the  liveliest  grati- 
tude to  their  divine  Redeemer  by  multitudes  to  whom 
his  labours  were  greatly  blessed,  both  as  the  means  of 
their  conversion  and  of  their  general  edification.  No  man 
in  any  age  of  the  Church  was  ever  known  for  so  long  a 
period  to  have  attracted  larger  audiences  ;  no  herald  of 
salvation  ever  sounded  forth  his  message  with  greater 
faithfulness  or  fervour — the  fervour  of  love  to  Christ,  and 
to  the  souls  of  perishing  sinners  ;  and  few  ministers  of  the 
gospel  in  modern  times  have  been  more  honoured  by  the 
extraordinary  unction  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  their  ministra- 
tions. To  this  unction  chiefly,  though  associated  with 
uncommon  talents,  must  be  attributed  the  wonderful  suc- 
cess and  popularity  of  his  discourses.  In  preaching  he 
had  the  happy  art  of  combining  great  originality  and  depth 
of  subject  with  the  utmost  plainness  of  speech  and  manner. 
Nor  was  his  simplicity  at  all  destroyed,  but  rather 
augmented,  by  the  glow  and  animation  of  his  soul  when 
applying  the  offer  of  salvation  to  all  within  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  and  reasoning  strongly  on  the  grand  and  vital 
doctrines  of  the  gospel.  The  ardent  feeling  which  in 
Others  sometimes  leads  to  a  rapid  invention  of  elegant  or 
pompous  language,  in  him  was  confined  to  the  increased 
accumulation  of  great  and  noble  sentiments.  His  favourite 
and  most  successful  subjects  in  the  pulpit  were  the  love  of 
God  to  fallen  man,  the  atonement,  repentance,  faith  in 
Christ  as  the  grand  principle  of  the  spiriiual  life  and  of 
practical  holiness,  together  with  the  undoubted  assurance 
of  adoption  by  the  direct  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the 
heart  of  the  believer.  On  these  subjects  he  would  often 
rise  to  the  genuine  grandeur  of  evangelical   preaching, 


324  Dr  Adam  darkens  Humour. 

pouring  forth  like  a  torrent  the  unostentatious  eloquence 
of  a  benevolent  and  loving  heart.  Energy  was  indeed  one 
very  peculiar  characteristic  of  his  mind. 

He  died,  in  the  seventy-second  year  of  his  age,  on  the 
26th  of  August,  1832. 

Dr  Adam  Clarke  abounded  in  humour.  He  used  to 
say  of  Irish  bulls,  that  they  were  delicate  strokes  of  wit, 
which  the  crass  Anglo-Saxon  mind  was  unable  to  appre- 
ciate. One  day,  in  order  to  relieve  a  beggar,  he  borrowed 
a  halfpenny  of  a  friend,  without  thinking  that  he  should 
have  to  answer  the  question  officially  put  in  the  conference 
of  his  brethren,  "  Are  you  in  debt  ?  "  When  it  was  put,  he 
answered,  "  I  can  say,  with  a  good  conscience,  not  a 
penny."  For  many  years  he  preached  in  a  dark  blue 
coat,  and  never  used  any  canonicals. 

JOSEPH    BENSON. 

His  talents  as  a  preacher  were  of  an  extraordinary  kind. 
Distinct  and  accurate  in  his  representations  of  divine 
truth,  powerful  in  argument,  inflamed  with  the  love  of 
Christ,  and  full  of  compassion  for  the  perishing  souls  of 
unconverted  men,  he  frequently  appeared  in  the  pulpit 
like  a  messenger  from  the  eternal  world.  His  applications 
at  the  close  of  his  sermons  were  energetic  and  impressive, 
almost  beyond  example.  On  many  occasions,  when 
thousands  of  hearers  were  hanging  on  his  lips,  the  special 
blessing  of  God  accompanied  his  ministrations ;  his  own 
mind  was  deeply  affected  with  the  awful  realities  of  eter- 
nity j  the  people  wept  aloud,  and  appeared  to  be  bowed 
down  beneath  the  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and,  in 
innumerable  instances,  these  impressions  were  permanent. 
Few  ministers  in  modern  times  have  been  so  successful  in 


Dr  Jahcz  Biuiiing.  325 


the  conversion  of  sinners  to  God  ;  and  many  spiritual 
children  will  be  his  joy,  and  the  crown  of  his  rejoicing,  in 
the  day  of  the  Lord.  He  continued  his  pious  labours  in  the 
cause  of  Christ  with  unremitting  ardour,  and  maintained 
by  the  grace  of  God  an  elevated  character  as  a  Christian 
minister  for  more  than  fifty  years,  when  he  gradually  sunk 
under  the  infirmities  of  age,  and  fell  asleep  in  Jesus. 
He  died  February  16,  1821,  aged  seventy-three  years. 

The  Second  Wesleyan  MctJiodisi  Triumvirate, 

DR   JABEZ    BUNTING 

Was  born  on  Ascension  Day,  May  13,  1779.  He  mani- 
fested great  talents  in  early  life.  His  first  address  to  a 
public  assembly  was  an  exhortation  in  the  open  air  on  a 
Sunday  afternoon  in  Salford,  near  Manchester ;  and  on 
the  1 2th  of  August,  1798,  he  preached  his  first  sermon  in 
a  cottage,  in  a  place  called  Sodom,  near  Blakeley.  The 
following  account  of  his  preaching  is  extracted  from  a 
sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  of  his  death  by  my 
venerable  father,  his  old  and  famihar  friend  : — 

"  No  sooner  had  Jabez  Bunting  entered  upon  the  duties 
of  his  circuit,  than  it  was  manifest  that  he  would  take  his 
rank  among  the  first  preachers  of  the  age.  There  was 
nothing  juvenile  in  his  sermons.  They  rather  presented 
the  sobriety,  the  judgment,  and  the  sohdity  of  advancing 
years.  His  voice  was  musical,  and  his  utterance  singularly 
clear,  distinct,  and  graceful,  without  anything  to  which  the 
most  fastidious  ear  could  take  exception  ;  and  his  manner 
was  animated.  His  discourses  were  evidently  prepared 
with  great  care,  the  matter  of  them  being  arranged  with 
logical  accuracy,  so  that  one  thought  prepared  the  way  for 


326  Rohert  HaWs  Opinion  of  Bunting 


another ;  and  every  discourse  possessed  a  character  of 
completeness,  and  left  its  appropriate  impression  upon  the 
minds  of  the  hearers.  He  used  but  little  action  in  the 
pulpit,  yet  his  tones  and  manner  otherwise  attested  the 
depth  of  his  feeling. 

"  The  purity  of  his  diction,  as  an  extemporary  speaker, 
forced  itself  upon  the  attention  of  every  hearer  of  correct 
taste.  In  the  expression  of  his  thoughts  it  appeared  as  if, 
without  any  effort  on  his  part,  the  most  suitable  words  in 
the  language  suggested  themselves  to  his  mind.  He  there- 
fore never  paused  for  the  right  word  ;  he  never  had  occa- 
sion to  recall  any  word  that  he  had  uttered  ;  every  sentence 
seemed  to  be  as  correct  and  complete  as  if  it  had  been 
prepared  with  the  nicest  care ;  and  its  meaning  was  per- 
fectly clear  and  transparent.  After  hearing  him  preach, 
the  celebrated  Robert  Hall — himself  one  of  the  most  elo- 
quent men  of  the  age — pronounced  his  style  'a  limpid 
stream  of  classic  elegance.' 

"But  his  ministry  had  still  higher  qualities.  It  was 
thoroughly  scriptural.  He  had  a  deep  impression  of  the 
authority  of  the  Bible,  as  the  undoubted  word  of  God, 
written  at  the  dictation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  therefore 
as  the  sure  basis  of  all  evangelical  instruction.  Never  was 
he  known  to  speak  lightly  or  irreverently  of  any  part  of 
Holy  Scripture,  or  to  utter  a  word  that  was  calculated  to 
weaken  the  faith  of  any  man  in  the  sacred  records.  He 
was  not  accustomed  to  select  a  text  as  a  mere  motto,  but 
as  containing  the  principles  which  the  sermon  was  intended 
to  unfold ;  the  sermon  itself  generally  embraced  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  scriptural  quotation ;  and  almost 
every  passage  that  might  be  cited  was  more  or  less  eluci- 
dated by  some  appropriate  remark ;  so  that  his  hearers, 


The  MdJiod  of  Buntings  Preaching.  327 


who  paid  a  due  attention  to  his  discourses,  obtained  a 
growing  acquaintance  with  the  oracles  of  God.  His  was 
an  expository  ministry. 

"  Nor  was  it  less  remarkable  for  its  evangelical  character. 
He  remembered  that  the  message  he  was  sent  to  deliver 
was  "  THE  GOSPEL ;"  and  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  high 
commission.  Christ  was  the  great  subject  of  his  preach- 
ing, after  the  example  of  the  apostles ;  Christ,  in  the 
glories  of  His  person  as  God  incarnate,  combining  every 
divine  perfection  with  every  human  excellence ;  Christ,  in 
the  spotless  purity  of  His  nature,  and  the  completeness  of 
His  righteousness ;  Christ,  in  the  perfection  and  univer- 
sality of  His  sacrifice ;  Christ,  in  the  perpetuity  and  pre- 
valence of  His  intercession  ;  Christ,  in  the  tenderness  of 
His  mercy  to  sinners,  and  the  greatness  of  His  saving 
power  J  Christ,  as  a  Saviour  from  sin,  as  the  sympathising 
Advocate  of  His  suffering  people ;  Christ,  in  the  all-suffi- 
ciency of  His  grace  ;  Christ,  in  the  holiness  and  equity  of 
His  mediatorial  government ;  Christ,  as  an  P2xample  whom 
every  believer  is  bound  to  imitate ;  Christ,  as  the  Sove- 
reign Lord  of  all,  the  Almighty  Judge  of  the  living  and  the 
dead. 

"  It  was  one  great  excellence  of  his  preaching  that  it  pre- 
sented no  affectation  of  novelty,  or  of  what  in  modern 
phrase  is  denominated  '  originality.'  He  had  no  sym- 
pathy with  the  men  who  seek  to  bring  in  '  another  gospel,' 
different  from  that  which  Christ  committed  to  His  apostles, 
and  which  tlie  body  of  the  faithful  have  always  recognised. 
The  man  who  would  found  a  new  school  of  philosophy 
must  be  prepared  to  advance  something  of  which  the 
world  has  never  heard  before ;  but  he  who  would  fulfil 
Christ's  commission  must  '  preach  the  word  ;'  not  as  a 


328  Dr  Bunting's  Style. 


matter  of  human  discovery,  or  as  requiring  the  support  of 
philosophy,  but  as  '  the  testimony  of  God,'  which  man- 
kind are  bound  to  beheve  upon  God's  authority.  What 
if  the  preaching  of  Ghrist  crucified  be  to  the  self-righteous 
Jews  '  a  stumbling-block,'  and  to  the  speculative  Greeks 
*fooUshness;'  it  is,  after  all,  '  the  power  of  God,  and  the 
wisdom  of  God  ;'  and  to  no  other  preaching  has  He  pro- 
mised to  give  the  sanction  of  his  blessing. 

"  Our  late  friend,  in  the  course  of  his  ministry,  gave  great 
prominence  to  the  office  and  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in 
connexion  with  the  mediation  of  Christ ;  representing 
Him  as  enlightening  the  dark  minds  of  fallen  men,  as 
awakening  the  conscience,  softening  the  heart,  drawing 
sinners  to  their  Saviour,  imparting  to  them  the  power  of 
saving  faith,  witnessing  the  adoption  of  individual  be- 
lievers, regenerating  their  nature,  helping  their  infirmities 
in  duty,  carrying  on  and  completing  their  sanctification, 
filling  them  with  peace  and  joy,  and  sealing  them  as  the 
property  and  heirs  of  God  unto  the  day  of  redemption. 
To  the  Holy  Spirit  he  was  accustomed  daily  to  look  for 
the  success  of  all  his  ministrations  j  and  not  in  vain,  for 
His  word  was  with  power. 

"Yet,  in  expatiating  upon  the  absolute  freeness  of  the 
gospel  salvation,  he  never  made  Christ  the  minister  of  sin, 
nor  ever  gave  the  least  countenance  to  the  Antinomian 
delusion.  To  show  men  their  need  of  salvation,  he  laid 
bare  the  deep  depravity  of  the  human  heart,  the  fearful 
amount  of  guilt  arising  from  that  depravity,  the  terrible 
penalty  of  transgression,  and  the  certainty  of  its  infliction, 
unless  justification  be  sought  and  obtained  through  faith 
in  the  blood  of  the  cross.  Hence  his  calls  to  repentance 
were  earnest  and  importunate.     He  warned  the  careless 


Dr  Biuitijig  a  Revivahsi.  329 

and  delaying  sinners  in  his  congregations,  he  expostulated 
with  them  ;  he  inquired  of  them  why  they  would  die  ;  he 
persuaded,  he  entreated,  he  besought  them  to  repent,  and 
do  works  meet  for  repentance,  that  so  iniquity  might  not 
be  their  ruin.  And  hence  his  ministry  was  eminently 
awakening  in  its  tendency,  as  well  as  in  its  purpose.  He 
preached  as  a  man  who  felt  that  the  end  to  be  accom- 
plished was  the  conversion  and  salvation  of  men  ;  and 
that  if  he  failed  in  this  grand  object,  through  any  want  of 
zeal  and  energy  on  his  part,  he  would  be  charged  with  the 
blood  of  lost  souls, — souls  for  whom  the  Son  of  God  came 
down  from  heaven  and  died  in  agonies  upon  the  cross. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  in  dealing  with  the  contrite  and  the 
broken-hearted,  he  was  singularly  tender,  affectionate,  and 

encouraging. 

*  *  »  *  * 

"  In  this  most  important  part  of  his  work  he  was  often 
successful.  Many  were  by  his  instrumentality  converted 
from  the  error  of  their  ways,  and  won  to  Christ.  Several 
of  them  now  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  our  Saviour  by  a 
holy  and  upright  life,  and  not  a  few  of  them  have  gone  to 
their  eternal  rest.  If  we  might  recognise  the  distinction 
among  ministers  which  has  often  been  made,  we  should 
say  that  Jabez  Bunting  belonged  to  the  class  of  Revival- 
ists, but  not  to  that  class  only. 

"  For,  while  his  preaching  was  well  adapted  to  alarm  the 
careless  and  the  worldly,  and  to  bring  the  penitent  to  his 
Saviour,  it  was  no  less  adapted  to  the  edification  and  en- 
couragement of  believers.  It  was  remarkable  for  its 
variety,  embracing  the  whole  range  of  revealed  truth,  as  it 
is  presented  by  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  form  of  doctrinal 
statement,  in  types,  in  parables,  in  historic  narrative,  ia 


330  Dr  Biinthig^s  Style. 


the  examples  of  holy  men,  in  warnings,  in  invitations,  in 
promises,  in  prophecies,  in  prayer,  in  praise  and  thanks- 
giving. He  set  before  the  children  of  God  their  high 
privileges  and  calling,  pressing  upon  them  the  duty  of 
going  on  to  perfection ;  he  warned  them  of  the  dangers 
that  beset  their  path ;  he  set  before  them  the  necessity  of 
universal  obedience  to  the  precepts  of  Christ,  often  going 
into  detail  on  the  various  subjects  of  Christian  duty,  and 
answering  every  plea  for  neglect  that  the  deceitfulness  of 
the  human  heart  is  apt  to  suggest ;  never  forgetting  to  re- 
mind them  that  their  great  strength  lay  in  the  all-sufficient 
grace  of  Christ,  which  He  will  never  withhold  from  them 
that  call  upon  Him. 

"  In  one  word,  the  pulpit  labours  of  this  very  able 
minister  presented  an  exact  conformity  to  the  model  which 
St  Paul  thus  describes  :  '  Christ  in  you,  the  hope  of  glory  : 
whom  we  preach,  warning  every  man,  and  teaching  every 
man  in  all  wisdom ;  that  we  may  present  every  man  per- 
fect in  Christ  Jesus :  whereunto  I  also  labour,  striving 
according  to  His  working,  which  worketh  in  me  mightily/ 
This  was  the  secret  of  his  power  as  a  preacher.  The 
unction  of  God  was  upon  him,  and  that  unction  was  rich 
and  abiding.  He  availed  himself  of  every  opportunity  for 
hearing  the  best  preachers  of  the  age  ;  yet  he  himself  was 
an  imitator  of  no  man,  but  a  pattern  from  whom  the  ablest 
of  them  might  receive  instruction. 

"  Such  a  ministry,  being  in  every  respect  agreeable  in  its 
manner,  and  at  the  same  time  evangelical,  comprehensive, 
awakening,  converting,  instructive,  edifying,  practical,  en- 
couraging, could  not  fail  to  be  popular,  in  the  true  and 
best  sense  of  that  term ;  and,  in  fact,  we  find  that,  until 
he  was  borne  down  by  the  infirmities  of  age,  eager  multi- 


Dr  Robert  Newton,  331 

tudes  flocked  to  the  places  where  he  was  expected  to  offi- 
ciate, listening  with  silent  and  delighted  attention  to  dis- 
courses which  it  was,  indeed,  a  privilege  to  hear.  They 
were  often  long  \  for  he  was  full  of  matter ;  but  they  were 
always  replete  with  instruction,  and  always  interesting. 

"  Let  no  one  suppose  that  a  ministry  like  this  can  be 
attained  by  the  mere  force  of  genius  or  of  natural  talents, 
let  them  be  what  they  may.  It  was  not  thus  attained  by 
Dr  Bunting.  He  studied  the  best  sermons  in  the  English 
language ;  he  studied  the  best  models  of  preaching ;  he 
prepared  his  own  sermons  with  the  utmost  care,  and  sub- 
jected them  from  time  to  time  to  a  strict  revision.  As  a 
preacher  he  desired  great  things,  he  aimed  at  great  things, 
he  laboured  patiently  to  accomplish  great  things,  and 
hence  his  success." 

This  remarkable  man  fell  asleep,  full  of  years,  June 
16,  1858. 

DR  ROBERT  NEWTON 

Was  born  at  Roxby,  near  Whitby,  September  8,  1780. 
He  was  a  man  of  remarkable  eloquence  and  nobility  of 
manner  and  form.  He  expired  on  Sunday,  April  30, 
1854.  His  character  as  a  pulpit  orator  is  thus  sketched 
by  his  biographer  : — 

"  As  a  preacher  he  is  well  known  to  have  enjoyed  emi- 
nent advantages ;  such  as  a  fine  open  countenance,  ex- 
pressive of  perfect  frankness,  generosity,  and  honesty  of 
purpose ;  his  features,  as  it  has  often  been  observed, 
bearing  a  strong  resemblance  to  those  of  Milton.  In  his 
person  he  was  handsome  and  well-proportioned,  possess- 
ing a  strength  of  constitution  which  seemed  to  be  capable 
of  enduring  almost  any  amount  of  labour;  and  he  poured 


332  Dr  Robert  New  fori. 


forth  the  truth  of  God  with  a  deep  bass  voice  of  such  com- 
pass and  power  as  even  rivalled  the  tones  of  a  cathedral 
organ.  Of  this  voice  he  had  a  perfect  command,  so  that 
without  an  effort  he  could  adapt  it  to  every  variety  of 
audience.  He  could,  with  equal  facility,  send  forth  a 
volume  of  sweet  sound  through  the  largest  and  most  dense 
assemblies ;  and  address,  with  ease  and  simphcity,  a  com- 
pany of  peasants  at  the  end  of  the  dining-table  in  a 
farmer's  kitchen,  or  behind  a  chair  in  the  cottage  of  a 
day-labourer.  To  nervous  excitement  he  was  an  entire 
stranger;  and  hence  his  incomparable  voice  never  faltered; 
and  he  never  betrayed  any  uneasiness  at  the  sight  of  large 
and  overwhelming  congregations.  His  action  was  easy 
and  free,  and  his  mode  of  address  always  becoming  and 
respectful. 

*'  His  language  was  entitled  to  high  praise.  His  words 
and  idioms  were  thoroughly  English ;  and  his  style  pos- 
sessed that  first  of  all  excellences,  perspicuity ;  so  that, 
to  borrow  the  thought  of  an  ancient  critic,  the  meaning  ot 
his  sentences  fell  upon  the  mind  of  the  hearer  as  the  light 
of  heaven  falls  upon  the  eye.  Persons  of  cultivated  in- 
tellect admired  his  correct  and  energetic  diction;  and 
*  the  common  people  heard  him  gladly.'  They  under- 
stood all  that  he  said ;  they  felt  the  power  of  his  word ; 
they  had  entire  confidence  in  his  integrity ;  they  believed 
that  he  meant  to  do  them  good  ;  and  hence,  while  they 
hung  upon  his  lips,  their  hearts  often  throbbed  with  de- 
light. The  readiness  of  his  utterance  was  to  him  a  mighty 
advantage ;  and  it  may  be  fairly  doubted  whether,  in  the 
entire  course  of  his  ministry,  embracing  a  period  of  more 
than  fifty  years,  he  was  ever  known  to  pause  for  a  single 
moment  for  an  appropriate  word  in  which  to  express  his 


Dr  Robert  Newton. 


333 


thoughts.  Yet  we  shall  greatly  mistake  his  character  as  a 
public  speaker,  if  we  conclude  that  his  facility  of  expres- 
sion led  him  into  the  vice  of  a  redundant  and  unintel- 
ligible verbiage.  His  diction  was  terse  and  forcible,  and 
his  sentences  told  upon  his  congregation  often  with  thril- 
ling effect. 

"  As  to  the  substance  and  matter  of  his  sermons,  it  may 
be  truly  said,  that  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  Saviour's 
charge,  '  Preach  the  gospel.'  Whoever  went  to  hear 
him  was  sure  to  hear  '  the  gospel,'  in  some  of  its  great 
and  leading  truths ;  such  as  the  glory  of  Christ's  person 
as  God  incarnate ;  the  nature  and  benefits  of  His  atone- 
ment ;  the  gift  and  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  the  Christian 
salvation,  and  the  method  of  its  attainment ;  the  power  ot 
divine  truth  and  grace  to  elevate  and  sanctify  the  charac- 
ters of  men,  and  prepare  them  for  the  heavenly  paradise. 
In  his  preaching  there  was  nothing  dark  and  cloudy, 
nothing  mystical,  nothing  merely  speculative,  nothing  that 
was  intended  to  dazzle  and  amuse,  no  affectation  of  nice 
criticism,  or  of  metaphysical  argument,  no  darkening  of 
counsel  by  words  without  knowledge.  All  was  clear  as 
the  noon-day,  presenting  truth  in  all  its  transparency. 
Neither  in  his  preaching  was  there  anything  rhapsodical 
or  incoherent.  All  his  sermons  presented  an  appearance 
of  just  arrangement  and  of  careful  preparation  ;  and  it  was 
invariably  manifest  that  he  had  made  himself  thoroughly 
master  of  the  subject  that  he  was  going  to  discourse  upon 
before  he  entered  the  pulpit.  With  him  the  essential 
verities  of  the  gospel  never  lost  their  interest ;  he  preached 
them,  in  all  their  simplicity,  through  a  long  life ;  he  lived 
upon  them;  they  were  the  nutriment  of  his  spirit;  they 
sustained  his  faith  and  hope ;  and,  when  he  was  enfeebled 


334  ^^  Robert  Newton, 


by  age,  they  fell  from  his  lips  with  as  much  freshness  as 
they  did  when  he  left  his  father's  house  to  preach  them  to 
the  scattered  peasantry  upon  the  Yorkshire  wolds. 

"  Having  had  the  happiness  of  much  private  intercourse 
with  him,  havjng  often  conversed  with  him  and  heard  him 
preach,  and  having,  at  two  different  times,  been  associated 
with  him  as  a  colleague  in  ministerial  labour,  I  hesitate  not 
to  affirm  that  he  was  an  admirable  theologian,  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  revealed  truth ;  and  that,  in  the  circuits 
which  he  occupied,  he  brought  it  before  his  congregations 
in  all  its  comprehensiveness,  to  their  delight  and  edifica- 
tion, especially  in  the  morning  and  evening  of  the  Lord's 
day.  He  was  familiar  with  the  phraseology  of  Holy  Scrip- 
ture, as  well  as  with  its  facts  and  doctrines ;  and  hence 
his  sermons  were  not  only  rich  in  evangelical  sentiment, 
but  often  contained  beautiful  forms  of  expression,  derived 
from  the  oracles  of  God — those  pure  fountains  of  sacred 
truth — which  gratified  a  just  taste,  while  they  conveyed 
valuable  instruction.  One  of  the  transatlantic  universities, 
therefore,  showed  a  just  estimate  of  the  man,  when  they 
conferred  upon  him  the  title  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  This 
was  a  mark  of  respect  to  which  he  was  fairly  entitled ; 
yet  it  added  nothing  to  him.  His  intellectual  and  moral 
worth  was  so  prominent,  and  so  generally  appreciated, 
that  neither  this  nor  any  other  degree  could  increase  the 
public  respect ;  and  hence  the  name  by  which  he  was 
popularly  known,  was  that  of  plain  Robert  Newton. 
There  was  no  apprehension  that  any  mistake  would  arise 
from  the  omission  of  his  title  ;  for  every  one  felt  that  there 
was  only  one  Robert  Newton  in  the  world." 


Richard  Watson.  335 


RICHARD  WATSON, 

One  of  the  most  eminent  preachers  that  Wesleyan  Method- 
ism has  produced,  was  born  at  Barton-upon-Humber,  in 
Lincolnshire,  February  22,  1781.  The  following  ad- 
mirable account  of  his  preaching  is  extracted  from  his 
Life,  which  was  written  by  his  friend  and  fellow-labourer, 
the  venerated  father  of  the  compiler  of  this  volume  : — 

^'As  so  many  of  Mr  Watson's  discourses  have  been 
published,  it  is  the  less  necessary  to  say  much  on  the 
subject  of  his  preaching.  His  sermons  were  never  crude 
and  undigested,  but  were  invariably  prepared  with  great 
care.  Those  which  he  preached  on  public  occasions  were 
generally  written  at  full  length  ;  in  the  latter  years  of  his 
life  especially,  he  was  accustomed  to  write  a  copious  out- 
line of  each  discourse  before  its  dehvery,  that  the  subject 
might  be  the  more  deeply  impressed  upon  his  mind.  All 
the  sermons  contained  in  his  printed  works,  except  the 
first  eleven,  which  he  wrote  expressly  for  pubHcation,  may 
be  regarded  as  specimens  of  that  preparation  which  it  was 
his  practice  to  make  before  he  addressed  his  congrega- 
tions. 

"  The  great  aim  of  his  preaching  was  usefulness  ;  and 
hence,  except  in  very  peculiar  cases,  he  decidedly  dis- 
approved of  those  sermons  which  consist  mostly  of  elabo- 
rate metaphysical  discussion,  and  the  texts  of  which  are 
used  merely  as  a  motto.  The  business  of  a  Christian 
preacher,  he  thought,  was  to  explain  and  enforce  the  pure 
word  of  God.  *  What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat  %  saith  the 
Lord.'  No  man  could  have  appeared  to  greater  advantage 
than  he  as  an  intellectual  preacher,  had  fame  been  his 
object,  and  had  he  chosen  to  address  himself  only  to  the 
understanding  and  imagination  of  educated  persons  ;  but 


336  Richard  V/atsons  Afanner  i?i  the  Pult>lt 

he  felt  that  his  business  was  especially  with  the  consciences 
of  mankind,  and  that  his  Lord  had  sent  him,  not  to  shine 
or  to  amuse,  but  to  convert  sinners,  and  to  build  up  be- 
lievers in  holiness  :  and  these  ends,  he  saw,  could  not  be 
obtained  but  by  the  instrumentality  of  divine  truth,  faith- 
fully and  plainly  declared,  and  graciously  applied  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.  To  the  end  of  his  hfe,  therefore,  he  became 
increasingly  partial  to  the  expository  mode  of  preaching ; 
and  in  his  ordinary  ministry  his  sermons  consisted  entirely 
of  deductions  from  his  texts,  the  several  parts  of  which  he 
was  careful  to  explain,  and  apply  to  the  purposes  of  prac- 
tical godliness.  His  sermons  were  evangelical  in  the 
strict  and  proper  sense  of  that  much-abused  term.  Christ 
crucified  was  his  favourite  theme.  He  preached  Christ  in 
the  glories  of  His  Godhead,  the  infinite  merit  of  His  pas- 
sion, and  the  plenitude  of  His  grace  and  saving  power ; 
and  so  practical  and  impressive  were  the  views  which  he 
presented  of  every  truth  upon  which  he  expatiated,  that 
those  hearers  must  have  been  callous  indeed  who  were 
not  seriously  affected  under  his  energetic  ministry. 

"  Mr  Watson's  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  very  solemn. 
Preaching,  with  him,  was  a  very  serious  business.  He  felt 
the  responsibility  of  standing  between  God  and  redeemed 
sinners,  proposing  to  them,  in  the  divine  name,  the  terms 
of  reconciliation  and  acceptance ;  and  he  often  trembled 
at  the  thought  of  being  to  some  of  his  hearers  '  a  savour 
of  death  unto  death.'  His  paUid  countenance  was  there- 
fore paler  than  usual  when  he  entered  the  pulpit ;  and  he 
frequently  commenced  the  public  services  of  religion  with 
a  quivering  lip  and  a  faltering  voice.  In  the  delivery  of 
his  sermons  he  stood  perfectly  erect,  and  nearly  all  the 
action  that  he  used  was  a  shght  motion  of  the  right  hand, 


i?.  Hairs  Opi)iion  of  Richard  Watson.  337 

with  occasionally  a  significant  shake  of  the  head.  He  was 
generally  calm  and  deliberate,  and  often  gave  strong  indi- 
cations of  deep  feeling  ;  but  his  preaching  was  never 
declamatory.  His  appearance  was  dignified,  and  calcu- 
lated to  command  respect  and  silent  attention  ;  and  when 
he  began  to  speak,  his  hearers  felt  that  they  were  in  the 
presence  of  a  man  who  was  qualified  to  instruct.  From 
everything  approaching  to  affectation  he  was  perfectly 
free ;  his  pronunciation  was  chaste  and  elegant,  and  his 
language  remarkable  for  simplicity  and  strength.  He  ex- 
celled equally  in  argument,  exposition,  and  persuasion. 
In  some  of  his  sermons  there  was  a  remarkable  tenderness 
of  sentiment ;  but  the  tone  of  thought  which  principally 
characterised  his  preaching  was  that  of  sublimity.  His 
conceptions  often  appeared  to  be  even  superhuman.  The 
truths  of  Christianity,  as  they  fell  from  his  lips,  were  in- 
vested with  peculiar  authority,  and  were  proposed,  not  as 
subjects  of  speculation,  but  to  be  received  with  meekness 
and  submission,  to  be  believed  and  practised.  In  his 
mind  every  feeling  was  lost  in  the  desire  to  be  useful — the 
intense  solicitude  to  save  his  own  soul,  and  them  that 
heard  him.  There  were  not  unfrequently  in  his  sermons 
bursts  of  eloquence  which  were  absolutely  irresistible,  and 
the  impression  of  which  was  scarcely  ever  lost.  After 
hearing  him  preach  on  the  subject  of  the  atonement,  in 
the  Methodist  Chapel  at  Leicester,  Mr  Hall,  who  was 
then  resident  in  that  town,  declared  that  for  a  long  time 
he  could  think  of  nothing  but  Mr  Watson's  sermon.  He 
preached  the  substance  of  it  to  his  own  congregation,  and 
for  several  successive  Sundays  he  referred  to  it  in  the 
course  of  his  ministry,  and  earnestly  pressed  his  people 
also  to   hear  '  that  great  man,'   as   he   denominated  Mr 

Y 


338  specimen  of  Richard  Watson's  Style. 

Watson,  should  they  ever  have  an  opportunity.  Speaking 
of  Mr  Watson's  preaching,  in  conversation  with  the  Rev. 
Theophilus  Lessey,  whom  he  honoured  Vv^ith  his  friend- 
ship, Mr  Hall  said,  '  He  soars  into  regions  of  thought 
where  no  genius  but  his  OAvn  can  penetrate.'  It  has  been 
also  remarked  by  Mr  Montgomery,  who  often  heard  Mr 
Watson,  and  knew  him  well,  '  It  was  the  character  of  his 
great  mind  to  communicate  its  own  power  and  facility  of 
comprehension  to  all  minds  that  came  under  his  influence. 
He  so  wholly  possessed  us  with  his  spirit,  that,  during  his 
progress  through  regions  of  intellect  or  mazes  of  argu- 
ment, we  were  not  aware  of  the  speed  at  which  we  were 
carried,  or  the  elevation  to  which  he  had  borne  us  beyond 
ourselves,  till  some  mighty  tliought  came  rushing  by,  like 
a  roll  of  thunder  beneath  the  car  of  an  aeronaut,  remind- 
ing him  that  he  is  far  above  the  clouds.'  " 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  some  of  the  most  powerful 
and  stirring  appeals  ever  uttered  by  Mr  Watson  from  the 
pulpit  were  extempore,  and  were  called  forth  by  the  occa- 
sion. His  printed  sermons,  however,  contain  many  pas- 
sages, which  will  give  some  conception  of  his  power  as 
a  public  speaker.  We  will  adduce  two, — one  relating  to 
the  state  of  the  heathen,  and  the  other  to  the  gospel  as 
the  means  of  salvation. 

State  of  the  Heathen. 

"Are  we  the  only  strangers  and  sojourners  before  God? 
Look  at  the  crowds  which  pass  you  in  your  busy  streets. 
Cast  up  the  population  of  Europe ;  plunge  among  the 
countless  milUons  of  India  and  China.  They  are  all 
strangers  and  sojourners  j  their  days  on  earth  are  as  a 
shadow,  and  there  is  no  expectation,  no  *  delay.'     They 


specimens  of  Richard  Watson's  Style.  539 

are  hastening  onward  ;  and  death  and  the  grave  are  mov- 
ing towards  them.  Under  what  affecting  views  does  this 
consideration  place  our  fellow-men,  and  especially  those 
of  them  who  are  living,  or  rather  dying,  in  the  darkness 
of  paganism!  They  are  indeed  'strangers;'  but  they 
know  no  better  home.  No  word  of  reconcihation  has 
opened  to  them  a  vista  through  the  grave,  and  brought 
to  light  the  distant  immortality.  They  are  '  sojourners,' 
too,  and  see  the  frailty  of  their  tents ;  and  often  shudder 
whilst  they  hear  the  rents  of  their  canvas  flapping  in  the 
midnight  wind  ;  but  no  Redeemer  has  cheered  them  with 
the  hope  of  a  continuing  city,  and  said  to  them,  '  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.'  You  are  indeed 
strangers,  with  a  home  in  prospect;  they  are  strangers 
and  sojourners  without  one.  What  a  shadow  to  them  is 
life  !  With  us,  indeed,  it  may  be  somewhat  substantiated 
by  its  connexion  with  religion  and  eternity.  To  them  its 
discipline  is  not  referred  to  correction ;  its  changeful 
scenes  carry  no  moral  lesson  ;  its  afflictions  no  humility ; 
its  blessings,  no  hope.  O  pity  your  fellow-sojourners  in 
travel,  without  food,  without  the  cheering  impulse  of  a 
home,  in  depressing  heartlessness,  and  painful  anxiety! 
Around  your  camp,  as  around  that  of  the  Israelites,  the 
manna  falls.  Invite  them  to  it.  The  rock  has  been 
smitten  for  you,  and  follows  all  your  steps  with  its  pure 
stream.  Call,  shout  to  them,  lest  they  perish,  '  Ho,  every 
one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters  ! '  Bid  them 
behold  your  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  and  cloud  by  day, 
and  join  your  camp,  that  they  may  have  the  same  blessed 
guidance.  Show  them  your  altars,  the  smoke  of  your 
atonement ;  bid  them  come  up  to  your  tabernacle ;  and 
make   them  know  that   the  desert  of  life  itself  may  be 


340  Richard  Watson  on  Missions. 

cheered  with  songs,  songs  of  salvation,  even  in  the  house  of 
their  pilgrimage ;  and  that,  although  here  they  have  no 
continuing  city,  they  may  seek  and  find  one  to  come." 

Missio7ts. 
"  Where,  then,  is  the  remedy  1  It  is  in  the  gospel  of 
the  grace  of  God.  There  the  deep  and  pressing  want  of 
the  world  is  met.  A  God  is  given  back  to  them  who  have 
lost  the  knowledge  of  Him ;  and  stands  confessed  before 
His  creatures  in  all  His  majesty  and  in  all  His  grace.  A 
system  of  morals  is  ushered  in,  pure  as  their  Author,  and 
commanding  in  all  their  sanctions  and  motives.  The 
lovely  majesty  of  religion  is  presented ;  not  the  form 
arrayed  in  the  wild  habiliments  of  superstition,  agitated 
with  demoniacal  inspirations,  stained  with  gore,  and  revel- 
ling in  human  misery ;  but  the  form  of  truth  and  love 
united,  inviting  confidence,  distributing  blessings,  and 
spreading  all  around  her  an  atmosphere  of  light,  comfort, 
and  healing.  The  true  Propitiation  is  presented, — the 
dying  Saviour,  the  powerful  Advocate  with  God,  the 
Friend  of  Man,  Jesus  the  Saviour ;  and  the  nations  look 
unto  Him  from  the  ends  of  the  earth,  and  are  saved.  O 
glorious  visitation,  and  '  not  in  word  only,  but  in  power  ! ' 
Here  Ues  the  efficiency  of  the  gospel ;  this  it  is  which 
distinguishes  it  from  everything  else.  All  else  is  human  ; 
this  only  is  divine.  Wherever  there  is  the  gospel,  there 
is  God  :  for  '■  lo,  I  am  with  you.'  It  is  not  the  cloud 
of  the  divine  majesty  only,  but  the  cloud  of  the  divine 
presence.  It  is  the  voice  of  God,  calling  the  prisoners  of 
earth  to  come  forth  and  show  themselves;  and  the  arm 
of  God,  throwing  back  the  bolt  of  their  dungeon,  and 
leading  them  into  liberty.     It  is  the  rain  which  falls  upon 


JoJm  Byron^s  advice  to  Preachers.  341 

the  desert  heath,  and  the  vital  spirit  in  it  which  gives  it 
its  fertiHsing  energy.  It  is  the  Word  of  God ;  but  it  is 
His  inspiration,  the  breathing  of  His  Holy  Spirit ;  like  the 
gales  of  spring,  not  violent,  not  rushing,  but  everywhere 
wafting  life,  and  converting  the  wintry  heath  into  fruitful- 
ness  and  health.  It  is  the  mighty  chariot  of  salvation, 
Messiah's  moving  throne,  instinct  with  life,  every  sweeping 
wheel  full  of  eyes  and  full  of  energy.  It  moves  with  resist- 
less velocity ;  before  it  fly  ^  the  gods,'  the  vain  idols,  '  who 
have  not  made  the  heavens  and  the  earth,'  and  yet  have 
usurped  the  honours  of  God.  Affrighted  as  the  lambs 
at  the  sound  of  mighty  thunderings,  they  fly  before ; 
whilst,  behind,  it  leaves  in  its  progress  a  train  of  light  and 
blessing  ample  as  the  earth,  and  welcome  as  the  day- 
spring  to  them  who  sit  in  darkness,  and  in  the  shadow  ot 
death." 

The  following  pithy  advice  to  preachers  by  old  John 
Byrom  was  much  admired  and  followed  by  some  of  the 
foregoing  Methodist  ministers,  and  may  be  read  with 
advantage  by  all : — 

"  To  speak  for  God,  to  sound  religion's  praise, 
Of  sacred  passions  the  wise  warmth  to  raise ; 
T' infuse  the  contrite  wish  to  conquest  nigh, 
And  point  the  steps  mysterious  as  they  lie ; 
To  seize  the  wretch  in  full  career  of  lust, 
And  soothe  the  silent  sorrows  of  the  just : 
Who  would  not  bless  for  this  the  gift  of  speech, 
And  in  the  tongue's  beneficence  be  rich? 
But  who  must  talk  ?     Not  the  mere  modern  sage, 
Who  suits  the  soften'd  gospel  to  the  age ; 


342  John  ByroftCs  advice  to  Preachers, 

Who  ne'er  to  raise  degenerate  practice  strives, 

But  brings  the  practice  down  to  Christian  lives  : 

Not  he  who  maxims  from  old  reading  took, 

And  never  saw  himself  but  through  a  book : 

Not  he,  who  hasty  in  the  morn  of  grace 

Soon  sinks  extinguish'd  as  a  comet's  blaze  : 

Not  he  who  strains  in  Scripture  phrase  t'  abound, 

Deaf  to  the  sense,  who  stuns  us  with  the  sound  : 

But  he,  who  silence  loves,  and  never  dealt 

In  the  false  commerce  of  a  truth  unfelt. 

Guilty  you  speak,  if  subtle  from  w^ithin 

Blows  on  your  words  the  self-admiring  sin  : 

If  unresolved  to  choose  the  better  part. 

Your  forward  tongue  belies  your  languid  heart : 

But  then  speak  safely,  when  your  peaceful  mind, 

Above  self-seeking  blest,  on  God  rechn'd, 

Feels  Him  suggest  unlabour'd  sense, 

And  ope  a  shrine  of  sweet  benevolence. 

Some  high  behests  of  heaven  you  then  fulfil. 

Sprung  from  His  light  your  words,  and  issuing  by  His 

will. 
Nor  yet  expect  so  mystically  long 
Till  certain  inspiration  loose  your  tongue  : 
Express  the  precept  runs,  "  Do  good  to  all  j " 
Nor  add,  '•  Whene'er  you  find  an  inward  call." 
'Tis  God  commands :  no  further  motive  seek. 
Speak  on  without,  or  with  reluctance  speak  : 
To  love's  habitual  sense  by  acts  aspire. 
And  kindle,  till  you  catch  the  gospel  fire. 

The  specious  sermons  of  a  learned  man 
Are  little  else  but  flashes  in  the  pan, 


Old  Yorkshire  Sermons,  343 

The  mere  haranguing  (upon  what  they  call 
Morahty)  is  powder  without  ball : 
But  he  who  preaches  with  a  Christian  grace, 
Fires  at  our  vices,  and  the  shot  takes  place." 

— John  Byrom. 

Old  Yorkshire  Sermons. 

A  jocose  and  amiable  clergyman  was  proceeding  to 
supply  the  "duty"  at  a  church  some  miles  distant  from 
his  own  home.  Cantering  leisurely  along  on  his  Galloway, 
he  overtook  one  of  the  local  preachers,  trudging  on  foot 
to  a  village,  where  he  was  to  hold  forth  in  a  barn.  The 
clergyman  entered  into  conversation  with  the  worthy 
preacher,  whom  he  knew  well;  and  being  a  wit  himself, 
he  was  the  awakener  of  wit  in  others.  "  My  friend,"  said 
he,  "I  am  afraid  you  are  poorly  paid  for  your  zealous 
exertions."  His  companion  gravely  assented.  "  Now,  I 
get  a  guinea  for  my  sermon  this  morning ;  what  may  you 
get?"  "Whaa?"  answered  the  preacher.  "Ah  do  not 
expect  much  at  t'  present  time  ;  but  when  my  great  Master 
comes  to  reckon  with  his  servants  at  t'  last,  ah  hope,  if  ah 
be  found  faithful,  to  get  a  crown  !"  An  admirable  reply, 
in  the  solemn  humour  of  which  the  clergyman  entirely 
acquiesced. 

The  local  preachers,  being  for  the  most  part  men  of 
very  humble  social  position,  did  not  receive  the  considera- 
tion from  pew-openers,  chapel-keepers,  and  others,  which 
v/as  accorded  to  their  "  travelling "  brethren.  One  hap- 
pening to  reach  the  meeting-house  vestry  wet  and  tired, 
after  a  long  walk  in  the  rain,  accosted  the  old  lady  in 

attendance,  and  said,  "I  am  very  weary,  Mrs ,  and 

wet  through  ;  could  you  find  me  a  glass  of  wine  % "     She 


344  Old  Yorkshire  Sermons. 

did  not  reply,  like  the  old  Scotchwoman,  "  Get  up  into 
pulpit  with  you  ;  you'll  be  dry  enough  there;"  but  with  a 
sly  twinkle  of  the  eye,  as  if  she  perfectly  knew  the  mean- 
ing of  her  blunder,  she  added,  "  A  've  got  noa  port  wine 
for  you;  you  locust  preachers  have  drunk  it  all  up  !" 

The  sermons  of  the  most  remarkable  of  these  self- 
taught  preachers  were  sometimes  bizarre,  grotesque,  and, 
to  a  highly  cultivated  and  sensitive  understanding,  ridic- 
ulous j  but  there  were  specimens  among  them,  never 
reduced  to  writing,  the  memories  of  which  yet  live  in  the 
breasts  of  aged  Yorkshiremen,  that  might  compare  with 
Dante  for  sublimity  and  gloom,  or  with  the  rude  but  im- 
pressive sculpture  on  and  around  the  portals  of  a  mediaeval 
cathedral,  for  bold  word-painting.  With  a  voice  of  high- 
pitched  recitative,  sometimes  approaching  a  scream,  with 
wild  and  vehement  gesticulation,  they  laid  firm  grasp, 
through  the  power  of  sympathy  and  the  spell  of  imagina- 
tion, on  their  bucolic  auditory.  There  was  no  denying 
one  thing — they  believed,  and  therefore  they  spoke,  One 
of  them  went  by  the  famihar  name  of  ''  Our  Billy."  He 
has  been  known  to  take  a  pair  of  scales  into  the  pulpit, 
and  literally  to  weigh  in  the  balance  the  several  characters 
he  described.  He  once  summoned  a  lost  spirit  from  the 
grave  to  give  an  account  of  the  manner  of  his  life,  solemnly 
inviting  him  to  take  his  place  in  the  front  seat  of  the 
gallery,  behind  the  clock,  that  he  might  be  better  seen 
and  heard.  The  people  in  the  pew  started  and  turned 
pale,  as  if  they  were  really  conscious  of  the  presence  of  a 
departed  soul.  On  one  occasion,  discoursing  on  David 
slaying  the  Philistine  giant  with  a  sling  and  a  stone,  he 
paused  for  a  moment,  as  though  contemplating  Goliah's 
prostrate  form,  when  a  burly  farmer,  sv/eating  with  excite- 


Dr  Robert  Stephens  M'AIL  345 

ment  and  heat,  for  the  chapel  was  crammed,  could  contain 
himself  no  longer,  but  rose  and  stood  on  the  seat,  shouting 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Off  with  his  head,  Billy  j  off 
with  his  head  !" 

Such  are  a  few  illustrations  of  old  Yorkshire  religious 
life.  The  men  and  their  manners  have  for  ever  passed 
away ;  the  present  age  produces  none  like  them,  nor  can 
it,  for  the  world  moves  on,  and  all  is  changed. 

DR  ROBERT  STEPHENS  M^ALL 

Was  born  at  Plymouth  on  the  4th  of  August  1792.  He 
became  an  Independent  minister  early  in  life.  His  chief 
popularity  maybe  dated  from  the  year  1827,  when  he  was 
appointed  to  the  pastoral  charge  of  Moseley  Street  Chapel, 
Manchester.  He  died  July  27,  1838.  He  was  m 
many  respects  similar  in  character  to  Robert  Hall,  and, 
like  him,  in  the  latter  days  of  his  life  was  afflicted  with 
acute  pain.  For  many  years  he  stood  in  the  foremost 
rank  of  Congregation alist  preachers,  his  friendly  rivals  in 
popularity  being  Thorpe  of  Bristol,  James  Parsons  of 
York,  and  Richard  Winter  Hamilton  of  Leeds.  The 
following  passage  fairly  represents  his  ornate  and  briUiant 
style : — 

Christ  the  poiver  of  God,  and  the  tvisdom  of  God. 
"With  the  utmost  justice,  therefore,  not  less  than  with 
the  utmost  magnificence,  may  this  doctrine  of  redemption 
be  described  under  the  appellations  here  employed ;  and 
it  is  not  without  reason  that  so  eminent  a  place  is  assigned 
it,  when  the  apostle  calls  it  by  the  names  of  two  great 
attributes  which  stand  foremost  in  the  array  of  the  divine 
perfections — wisdom  and  power. 


346  The  Style  of  Dr  M'All. 

"  Many  are  the  modifications  of  glory  associated  with 
them  in  the  adorable  character  of  God  ;  but  these  are 
essentially  connected  with  the  very  thought  of  his  exist- 
ence. They  are  those  with  which  we  come  earliest  into 
acquaintance,  and  which  stand  related  to  his  largest  and 
most  varied  range  of  operations  ;  and,  having  to  do  with 
the  formation  as  well  as  the  government  of  all  things,  they 
meet  our  view,  not  less  in  the  constitution  and  primary 
condition  of  every  creature,  than  in  its  preservation  or  its 
after  circumstances.  And  it  must  be  so ;  for  without 
consummate  wisdom,  a  being  of  unlimited  power  would 
be  most  inapt  to  the  control  of  numberless  free  and 
accountable  agents  ;  but  without  power  equal  to  his  in- 
telligence, a  being  of  infinite  wisdom,  bafiied  by  his  own 
designs,  and  lost  in  the  immensity  of  his  own  purposes, 
would  be  supremely  and  infinitely  miserable.  Their  com- 
bination in  equal  measure,  therefore,  as  it  is  inseparable 
from  his  nature,  is  required  alike  in  order  to  his  rectitude 
and  his  felicity. 

"  His  manifestations,  accordingly,  are  numberless,  and 
their  diversity  without  end  ;  and  though,  in  particular 
instances,  when  we  attempt  their  distinct  celebration,  we 
are  often  confounded  by  the  difficulty  of  deciding  between 
them,  yet  their  essence  is  as  dissimilar  as  their  glory  is 
alike.  Each  has  its  own  sphere  of  action,  and  each  its 
standard  of  independent  excellence. 

"  It  is  power  which  brings  out  of  nothing  ;  wisdom  which 
arrays  and  beautifies.  Power  is  the  source  of  elements; 
wisdom,  of  affinities:  power,  of  innate  forces  and  undirected 
energies ;  wisdom,  of  useful  adaptations  and  beneficial 
results.  Power  might  create  a  chaos ;  wisdom  must 
fabricate  a  world. 


specimen  of  his  Style.  347 

"  When  we  think  of  God's  power,  it  is  natural  to  contem- 
plate Him  as  ^  speaking,  and  it  was  done  ;  commanding, 
and  it  stood  fast;'  when  of  His  wisdom,  as  'preparing 
the  heavens,  and  setting  a  compass  upon  the  face  of  the 
depth.'  His  power  presents  Him  as  He  'stood  and 
measured  the  earth,  He  beheld  and  drove  asunder  the 
nations ;  and  the  everlasting  mountains  were  scattered, 
the  perpetual  hills  did  bowj'  His  wisdom,  as  He  is 
arrayed  with  a  serener  majesty,  '  weighing  those  moun- 
tains in  scales,  and  those  hills  in  a  balance/ 

"  His  power  finds  its  witnesses  in  the  lightning  and  the 
whirlwind ;  His  wisdom  in  those  dehcate  and  just  pro- 
portions, which  fit  the  most  destructive  of  elements  to 
sustain  and  nourish  life.  His  power,  in  the  immensity 
and  innate  properties  of  matter;  His  wisdom,  in  those 
exquisite  organisations  which  minister  to  hearing,  sight, 
or  touch  j  which  sustain  the  flight  of  the  insect,  or  give 
residence  and  action  to  the  intellect  of  man. 

"  We  look  for  the  emblem  of  His  power  in  the  vast  and 
fathomless  ocean,  which  is  yet  held  in  the  hollow  of  His 
hand ;  we  find  the  demonstrations  of  His  wisdom  in  the 
arrangement  and  the  splendour  which  makes  every  dew- 
drop  an  abyss  of  wonders. 

"  But  they  are  usually  presented  with  equal  clearness  and 
indissoluble  union ;  and,  whether  w^e  regard  them  on  the 
scale  of  an  atom  or  of  the  universe,  their  greatness  is  the 
same, — while,  from  their  concurrence,  each  becomes  more 
glorious,  and  is  productive  of  effects  more  variously  per- 
fect. Meeting,  in  every  department  of  the  divine  work- 
manship, with  specimens  as  elaborate  in  execution  as  they 
are  consummate  in  design,  we  are  unable  often  to  deter- 
mine which  most  we  should  admire,  and  must  content 


348  Dr  R.  S,  M'All 


ourselves  with  the  subUme  reflection  of  the  prophet, 
'  This  also  cometh  forth  from  the  Lord  of  hosts,  who  is 
wonderful  in  counsel,  and  excellent  in  working.' 

"  Perhaps  it  is  power  which  most  astonishes  us  in  the 
productions  of  nature  ;  wisdom,  which  excites  our  greatest 
admiration  in  the  disposals  of  providence  ;  but  the  union 
of  both  which  we  behold  with  the  sublimest  ravishment 
in  the  mystery  of  redemption. 

"  It  is  a  high  and  sovereign  exercise  of  power  to  pardon 
sin,  but  an  arrangement  of  profoundest  wisdom  to  make 
that  pardon  consistent  with  the  honour  of  the  Lawgiver 
and  the  security  of  His  dominion.  Power  might  rescue; 
wisdom  would  redeem. 

"  It  is  benignant  power  we  witness  when,  after  the  forma- 
tion of  this  wonderful  economy,  and  all  its  preceding  evo- 
lutions, Jehovah  at  length  goes  forth  in  His  chariot  of 
salvation ;  but  it  is  the  voice  of  wisdom  which  we  hear 
crying,  '  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord,  make  straight 
in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our  God.  Every  valley  shall 
be  exalted,  and  every  mountain  and  hill  shall  be  made 
low;  and  the  crooked  shall  be  made  straight,  and  the 
rough  places  plain  :  and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
revealed,  and  all  flesh  shall  see  it  together.' 

"  We  behold  almighty  power  raising  up  from  among  the 
nations  the  ancestry  of  the  Messiah, — preserving  His  lin- 
eage unbroken  through  so  many  ages, — and  fulfilling,  by 
continued  miracle,  Avhat  had  once  been  uttered  by  an  un- 
alterable decree  :  '  The  sceptre  shall  not  depart  from 
Judah,  nor  a  lawgiver  from  between  his  feet,  until  Shiloh 
come  ;  and  to  Him  shall  the  gathering  of  the  people  be.' 
We  hear  its  awful  proclamation  in  regard  to  the  mightiest 
of  surrounding  states  :  '  I   will  overturn,  overturn,  over- 


specimen  of  his  Style.  349 

turn,  until  He  come  whose  right  it  is  to  reign  :'  and  we 
acknowledge  its  effects,  when  an  invisible  hand  is  found 
going  before  those  on  whom  the  fulfilment  of  this  purpose 
is  anywise  dependent,  '  to  loosen  the  loins  of  kings,  to 
open  before  him  the  two-leaved  gates  ;  to  break  in  pieces 
the  doors  of  brass,  and  to  cut  in  sunder  the  bars  of  iron.' 
But  we  discern  not  less  of  wisdom,  so  ordering  all  things 
by  the  co-operation  of  natural  causes,  that,  when  the  long- 
looked-for  Messiah  actually  came,  the  state  both  of  the 
world  and  of  His  own  people  should  be  such  as  to  insure 
His  rejection,  and  to  issue  even  in  His  death;  and  yet  to 
make  the  consequences  of  His  ministry  the  most  exten- 
sively effectual,  causing  their  tidings  to  spread,  and  their 
influence  to  be  experienced,  with  the  greatest  speed  and 
certainty,  over  every  land. 

"  How  illustriously  is  the  agency  of  omnipotence  re- 
vealed, when  at  length,  though  lifted  up  upon  a  cross,  He 
becomes  the  conqueror  of  death,  the  spoiler  of  the  grave, 
the  deliverer  of  captive  souls,  and  the  emancipator  of  an 
enslaved  world  !  And  yet,  conspicuous  as  are  these  dis- 
coveries, the  features  of  unerring  and  awful  wisdom  are  at 
least  equally  discernible.  It  is  the  part  of  such  wisdom 
to  attain  the  greatest  ends,  without  profuse  or  ineffective 
expenditure  ;  to  restrain  the  premature  disclosure  of  its 
objects;  to  provide,  infallibly,  against  emergent  occasions, 
and  contingent  events ;  to  neutralise  opposition  and 
hinderance;  or  ro  convert  opponent  forces  into  auxiUaries 
and  useful  allies  ; — and  thus  to  secure  its  results  in  a 
manner  exempt  from  compHcation  or  embarrassment,  as 
well  as  from  ostentatious  or  unmeaning  display.  Now,  in 
each  of  these  is  revealed, — and  revealed  as  if  each  stood 
alone, — '  the  depth  of  the  riches,  both  of  the  wisdom  and 


35 o  John  Angdl  James  on  Freac/ung. 

knowledge  of  God/  in  the  process  of  redeeming  mercy. 
An  illustration  of  this  may  be  derived  from  the  life  and 
ministry  of  Jesus,  where  we  see  everything  conducted  in 
a  method  of  consummate  regularity  and  order, — nothing 
precipitated,  nothing  delayed, — not  a  step  taken  unad- 
visedly, or  before  its  time, — even  from  His  first  miracle  in 
Cana,  to  the  day  when  Moses  and  Elias,  like  the  ambas- 
sadors of  some  great  empire,  appeared  with  Him  in  glory 
on  the  Mount,  holding  a  solemn  and  final  conference 
respecting  "  the  decease  He  was  to  accomplish  at  Jeru- 
salem," and  all  that  must  yet  precede  that  hour  of  agony 
and  triumph  when  He  should  exclaim,  on  a  review  of  the 
whole,  ''  It  is  finished." 

JOHN  ANGELL  JAMES 

Was,  for  many  years,  the  well-known  minister  of  Carr's 
Lane  Chapel,  Birmingham.  He  wrote  a  work  entitled, 
"  An  Earnest  Ministry,"  which  contains  the  following  re- 
marka])le  passage  upon  sermons  and  preaching  :  "  Will 
any  one  deny  that,  in  the  present  state  of  modern  society, 
we  want  an  earnest  ministry  to  break  in  some  degree  the 
spell,  and  leave  the  soul  at  liberty  for  the  affairs  of  a  king- 
dom which  is  not  of  this  world  ?  When  politics  have 
come  upon  the  minds  and  investigations  of  our  people 
for  six  days  out  of  seven,  invested  with  the  charms  of 
eloquence,  and  decked  with  the  colours  of  party ;  when 
the  orator  and  the  writer  have  thrown  the  witchery  cf 
genius  over  the  soul,  how  can  it  be  expected  that  tame, 
spiritless,  rapid  common-i3laces  from  the  pulpit,  sermons 
without  either  head  or  heart,  having  neither  weight  of 
matter  nor  grace  of  manner,  neither  genius  to  compensate 
for  the  want  of  taste,  nor  taste  to  compensate  for  the 


John  Seidell  07i  Sermons.  351 

want  of  genius,  no  unction  of  evangelical  truth,  no  im- 
press of  eternity,  no  radiance  from  heaven,  no  terror  from 
hell  j  in  short,  no  adaptation  to  awaken  reflection  or  to 
produce  conviction  ;  how  can  it  be  expected,  I  say,  that 
such  sermons  can  avail  to  accomplish  the  purposes  for 
which  the  gospel  is  to  be  preached  ?  What  chance  have 
such  preachers  amidst  the  tumult  to  be  heard  or  felt ;  or 
what  claim  have  they  upon  the  public  attention,  amidst 
the  high  excitement  in  which  we  Hve  ?  Their  hearers  too 
often  feel  that  in  listening  to  their  sermons  on  the  Sab- 
bath, as  compared  with  what  they  have  heard  and  read 
during  the  week,  it  is  as  if  they  were  turning  from  the 
brilliant  and  tasteful  gaslight,  to  the  dim  and  smoking 
spark  of  the  tallow  and  the  rush.  Who  but  the  pastor 
that  can  speak  in  power  and  demonstration  of  the  Spirit 
— a  man  who  shall  rise  Sabbath  after  Sabbath  in  the  pulpit, 
clothed  with  a  potency  to  throw  into  shadow,  by  his  vivid 
representations  of  heaven  and  eternity,  all  these  painted 
nothings,  on  which  his  hearers  are  in  danger  of  squander- 
ing their  immortal  souls." 

PREACHING. 

{From  the  Tahle-Talk  of  John  Sclden.) 

"  Nothing  is  more  mistaken  than  that  speech,  Preach  the 
gospel;  for  'tis  not  to  make  long  harangues,  as  they  do 
now-a-days,  but  to  tell  the  news  of  Christ's  coming  into 
the  world  ;  and  when  that  is  done,  or  where  'tis  known 
already,  the  preacher's  work  is  done. 

"  2.  Preaching,  in  the  first  sense  of  the  word,  ceased  as 
soon  as  ever  the  gospel  was  written. 

"  3.  When  the  preacher  says.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the 


352  JoJin  Seidell  on  Sermons. 

Holy  Ghost  in  such  a  place,  in  sense  he  can  mean  no 
more  than  this  :  that  is,  I,  by  studying  of  the  place,  by 
comparing  one  place  with  another,  by  weighing  what  goes 
before  and  what  comes  after,  think  this  is  the  meaning  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  j  and  for  shortness  of  expression  I  say, 
The  Holy  Ghost  says  thus,  or.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the 
Spirit  of  God.  So  the  judge  speaks  of  the  king's  procla- 
mation, This  is  the  intention  of  the  king ;  not  that  the 
king  had  declared  his  intention  any  other  way  to  the 
judge,  but  the  judge,  examining  the  contents  of  the  pro- 
clamation, gathers  by  the  purport  of  the  words  the  king's 
intention  ;  and  then,  for  shortness  of  expression,  says, 
This  is  the  king's  intention. 

"  4.  Nothing  is  text  but  w^hat  was  spoken  in  the  Bible, 
and  meant  there  for  person  and  place ;  the  rest  is  appUca- 
tion,  which  a  discreet  man  may  do  well ;  but  'tis  his  Scrip- 
ture, not  the  Holy  Ghost. 

"5.  Preaching  by  the  Spirit,  as  they  call  it,  is  most  es- 
teemed by  the  common  people,  because  they  cannot  abide 
art  or  learning,  which  they  have  not  been  bred  up  in.  Just 
as  in  the  business  of  fencing,  if  one  country  fellow  amongst 
the  rest  has  been  at  the  school,  the  rest  will  undervalue 
his  skill,  or  tell  him  he  wants  valour  :  You  come  with 
your  school  tricks  ;  there'' s  Dick  Butcher  has  ten  times  more 
mettle  in  him.  So  they  say  to  the  preachers,  You  come 
with  your  school  learning  ;  there 's  such  a  one  has  the  Spirit. 

*'  6.  The  tone  in  preaching  does  much  in  working  upon 
the  people's  affections.  If  a  man  should  make  love  in  an 
ordinary  tone,  his  mistress  would  not  regard  him ;  and 
therefore  he  must  whine.  If  a  man  should  cry  '  Fire '  or 
'  Murder '  in  an  ordinary  voice,  nobody  would  come  out 
to  help  him. 


John  Seldcfi  on  Sermons.  353 

**  7.  Preachers  will  bring  anything  into  the  text.  The 
young  Masters  of  Arts  preached  against  non-residency  in 
the  university,  whereupon  the  Heads  made  an  order,  that 
no  man  should  meddle  with  anything  but  what  was  in  the 
text.  The  next  day  one  preached  upon  these  words, 
Abraham  begat  Isaac.  When  he  had  gone  a  good  way,  at 
last  he  observed,  that  Abj-aham  was  resident ;  for  if  he 
had  been  non-resident'  he  could  never  have  begat  Isaac ; 
and  so  fell  foul  ujDon  the  non-residents. 

"  8.  I  could  never  tell  what  often  preaching  meant, 
after  a  church  is  settled,  and  we  know  what  is  to  be  done ; 
'tis  just  as  if  a  husbandman  should  once  tell  his  servants 
what  they  are  to  do,  when  to  sow,  when  to  reap ;  and 
afterwards  one  should  come  and  tell  them  twice  or  thrice 
a  day  what  they  know  already.  You  must  sow  your 
wheat  in  October,  you  must  reap  your  wheat  in  August, 
&c. 

"  9.  The  main  argument  why  they  would  have  two 
sermons  a  day,  is  because  they  have  two  meals  a  day ; 
the  soul  must  be  fed  as  well  as  the  body.  But  I  may  as 
well  argue,  I  ought  to  have  two  noses  because  I  have 
two  eyes,  or  two  mouths  because  I  have  two  ears.  What 
have  meals  and  sermons  to  do  with  one  another  ? 

"  10.  The  things  between  God  and  man  are  but  a 
few,  and  those,  forsooth,  we  must  be  told  often  of  But 
things  between  man  and  man  are  many ;  those  I  hear  of 
not  above  twice  a  year  at  the  Assizes,  or  once  a  quarter 
at  the  Sessions.  But  few  come  then  ;  nor  does  the  min- 
ister exhort  the  people  to  go  at  these  times  to  learn  their 
duty  towards  their  neighbour.  Often  preaching  is  sure  to 
keep  the  minister  in  countenance,  that  he  may  have  some- 
thing to  do. 

z 


354  John  Selden  on  Serjnons. 

"  II.  In  preaching  they  say  more  to  raise  men  to  love 
virtue  than  men  can  possibly  perform,  to  make  them  do 
their  best;  as  if  you  would  teach  a  man  to  throw  the  bar, 
to  make  him  put  out  his  strength,  you  bid  him  throw 
farther  than  it  is  possible  for  him,  or  any  man  else  :  Throw 
over  yonder  house. 

"i2.  In  preaching  they  do  by  men  as  writers  of  ro- 
mances do  by  their  chief  knights,  bring  them  into  many 
dangers,  but  still  fetch  them  off :  so  they  put  men  in  fear 
of  hell,  but  at  last  bring  them  to  heaven. 

"13.  Preachers  say,  Do  as  I  say,  not  as  I  do.  But  if 
a,  physician  had  the  same  disease  upon  him  that  I  have, 
and  he  should  bid  me  do  one  thing,  and  he  do  quite 
another,  could  I  believe  him  ? 

"14.  Preaching  the  same  sermon  to  all  sorts  of  people, 
is  as  if  a  schoolmaster  should  read  the  same  lesson  to  his 
several  forms.  If  he  reads  Amo^  amas,  amavi,  the  highest 
forms  laugh  at  him ;  the  younger  boys  admire  him  :  so  'tis 
preaching  to  a  mixed  auditory.  Objection.  But  it  cannot 
be  otherwise ;  the  parish  cannot  be  divided  into  several 
forms  :  what  must  the  preacher  then  do  in  discretion  ? 
Answer.  Why,  then,  let  him  use  some  expressions  by  which 
this  or  that  condition  of  people  may  know  such  doctrine 
does  more  especially  concern  them  ;  it  being  so  delivered 
that  the  wisest  may  be  content  to  hear.  For  if  he  delivers 
it  altogether,  and  leaves  it  to  them  to  single  out  what  be- 
longs to  themselves,  (which  is  the  usual  way,)  'tis  as  if  a 
man  would  bestow  gifts  upon  children  of  several  ages,  two 
years  old,  four  years  old,  ten  years  old,  &c.,  and  there  he 
brings  toJ)s, pins,  points,  ribands,  and  casts  them  all  in  a  heap 
together  upon  a  table  before  them  ;  though  the  boy  of  ten 
years  old  knows  how  to  choose  his  top,  yet  the  child  of  two 


Seidell  oil  PreacJimg,  355 

years  old,  that  should  have  a  riband^  takes  a//;/,  and  the 
//;/,  e'er  he  be  aware,  pricks  his  fingers,  and  then  all 's  out 
of  order,  &c.  Preaching,  for  the  most  part,  is  the  glory  of 
the  preacher,  to  show  himself  a  fine  man.  Catechising 
would  do  much  better. 

"15.  Use  the  best  arguments  to  persuade,  though  but 
few  understand ;  for  the  ignorant  will  sooner  believe  the 
judicious  of  the  parish  than  the  preacher  himself;  and 
they  teach  when  they  dissipate  what  he  has  said,  and  be- 
lieve it  the  sooner,  confirmed  by  men  of  their  own  side. 
For  betwixt  the  laity  and  the  clergy  there  is,  as  it  were,  a 
continual  driving  of  a  bargain ;  something  the  clergy 
would  still  have  us  be  at,  and  therefore  many  things  are 
heard  from  the  preacher  with  suspicion.  They  are  afraid 
of  some  ends,  which  are  easily  assented  to  when  they  have 
it  from  one  of  themselves.  'Tis  with  a  sermon  as  'tis  with 
a  play ;  many  come  to  see  it,  which  do  not  understand  it ; 
and  yet,  hearing  it  cried  up  by  one,  whose  judgment  they 
cast  themselves  upon,  and  of  power  with  them,  they  swear 
and  will  die  in  it,  that  'tis  a  very  good  play,  which  they 
would  not  have  done  if  the  priest  himself  had  told  him  so. 
As  in  a  great  school,  'tis  [not]  "'  the  master  that  teaches 
all ;  the  monitor  does  a  great  deal  of  work  ;  it  may  be  the 
boys  are  afraid  to  see  the  master  :  so  in  a  parish  'tis  not 
the  minister  does  all ;  the  greater  neighbour  teaches  the 
lesser,  the  master  of  the  house  teaches  his  servant,  &c. 

"  16.  First  in  your  sermons  use  your  logic,  and  then 
your  rhetoric.  Rhetoric  without  logic  is  like  a  tree  with 
leaves  and  blossoms,  but  no  root ;  yet  I  confess  more  are 
taken  with  rhetoric  than  logic,  because  they  are  catched 
with  a  free  expression,  when  they  understand  not  reason. 
*  Not  is  omitted  in  the  oriji.  ed. 


;S^  Seldeti  on  Preaching 


Logic  must  be  natural,  or  it  is  worth  nothing  at  all ;  your 
rhetoric  figures  may  be  learned.  That  rhetoric  is  best 
which  is  most  seasonable  and  most  catching.  An  instance 
we  have  in  that  old  blunt  commander  at  Cadiz,  who 
showed  himself  a  good  orator ;  being  to  say  something  to 
his  soldiers,  which  he  was  not  used  to  do,  he  made  them 
a  speech  to  this  purpose  :  What  a  shame  will  it  be,  you 
Englishmen,  that  feed  upon  good  beef  and  bi^avess,  to  let  those 
rascally  Spaniards  beat  yoti,  that  eat  nothing  but  07'anges  and 
lemons  I  and  so  put  more  courage  into  his  men  than  he 
could  have  done  with  a  more  learned  oration.  Rhetoric 
is  very  good,  or  stark  naught :  there 's  no  medium  in 
rhetoric.  If  I  am  not  fully  persuaded  I  laugh  at  the 
orator. 

"17.  'Tis  good  to  preach  the  same  thing  again;  for 
that's  the  way  to  have  it  learned.  You  see  a  bird  by 
often  whistling  to  learn  a  tune,  and  a  month  after  record 
it  to  herself. 

"  18.  'Tis  a  hard  case  a  minister  should  be  turned  out 
of  his  living  for  something  they  infomi  him  he  should  say 
in  his  pulpit.  We  can  no  more  know  what  a  minister 
said  in  his  sermon  by  two  or  three  words  picked  out  of  it, 
than  we  can  tell  what  tune  a  musician  played  last  upon 
the  lute,  by  two  or  three  single  notes." 

THE  THREE  SCOFFERS. 

In  a  seaport  town  on  the  west  coast  of  England,  notice 
was  once  given  of  a  sermon  to  be  preached  there  one 
Sunday  evening.  The  preacher  was  a  man  of  great 
celebrity,  and  that  circumstance,  together  with  the  object 
of  the  discourse,  being  to  enforce  the  duty  of  strict  observ- 
ance of  the  Sabbath,  attracted  an  overflowing  audience. 


Ranarkahle  Scrmo7i.  357 

After  the  usual  prayers  and  praises,  the  preacher  read  his 
text,  and  was  about  to  proceed  with  his  sermon,  when  he 
suddenly  paused,  leaning  his  head  on  the  pulpit,  and 
remained  silent  for  a  few  moments.  It  was  imagined  that 
he  had  become  indisposed ;  but  he  soon  recovered  him- 
self, and,  addressing  the  congregation,  said,  that  before 
entering  upon  his  discourse,  he  begged  to  narrate  to  them 
a  short  anecdote.  "  It  is  now  exactly  fifteen  years,"  said 
he,  "  since  I  was  last  within  this  place  of  worship ;  and 
the  occasion  was,  as  many  here  may  probably  remember, 
the  very  same  as  that  which  has  now  brought  us  together. 
Amongst  those  who  assembled  that  evening  were  three 
dissolute  young  men,  who  came  not  only  with  the  inten- 
tion of  insulting  and  mocking  the  venerable  pastor,  but 
even  with  stones  in  their  pockets  to  throw  at  him  as  he 
stood  in  the  pulpit.  Accordingly,  they  had  not  attended 
long  to  the  discourse,  when  one  of  them  said  impatiently, 
*  Why  need  we  listen  any  longer  to  the  blockhead  ? — 
throw ! '  But  the  second  stopped  him,  saying,  *  Let  us 
first  see  what  he  makes  of  this  point.'  The  curiosity  of 
the  latter  was  no  sooner  satisfied,  than  he,  too,  said,  'Ay, 
confound  him,  it  is  only  as  I  expected — throw  now!' 
But  here  the  third  interposed,  and  said,  '  It  would  be 
better  altogether  to  give  up  the  design  which  has  brought 
us  here.'  At  this  remark  his  two  associates  took  offence, 
and  left  the  place,  while  he  himself  remained  to  the  end. 
Now  mark,  my  brethren,"  continued  the  preacher,  with 
much  emotion,  "  what  were  afterwards  the  several  fates  of 
these  young  men  !  The  first  was  hanged  many  years  ago 
at  Tyburn  for  the  crime  of  forgery ;  the  second  is  now 
lying  under  sentence  of  death  for  murder  in  the  jail  of 
this  city.     The  third,  my  brethren" — and  the  speaker's 


358  George  Wagner  of  Brighton. 

agitation  here  became  excessive,  while  he  paused  and 
wiped  the  large  drops  from  his  brow — "  the  third,  my 
brethren,  is  he  who  is  now  about  to  address  you  !  Listen 
to  him  1 " 

Cecil  on  Long  Sermoiis. 

"  The  sermons  of  the  last  century  were  like  their  large 
unwieldy  chairs.  Men  have  now  a  far  truer  idea  of  a 
chair.  They  consider  it  a  piece  of  furniture  to  sit  on,  and 
cut  away  from  it  everything  that  encumbers  it.  One  of 
the  most  important  considerations  in  making  a  sermon  is 
to  disembarrass  it  as  much  as  possible.  A  young  minis- 
ter must  learn  to  separate  and  select  his  materials.  Some 
things  respond ;  they  ring  again.  He  must  remark,  too, 
what  it  is  that  puzzles  and  distracts  the  mind.  All  this  is 
to  be  avoided.  It  may  bear  the  garb  of  deep  research 
and  acumen  and  extensive  learning,  but  it  is  nothing  to 
the  mass  of  mankind." — CeciVs  Remains,  p.  74. 

Archbishop  Whately  somewhere  says,  "  Many  a  wander- 
ing discourse  one  hears  in  which  the  preacher  aims  at 
nothing,  and  hits  it."  "  Some  speakers  resemble  an  ex- 
ploring party  in  a  newly-discovered  island,  they  start  in 
any  direction,  without  aim  or  object." 

THE  REVEREND  GEORGE  WAGNER. 

One  of  the  Brighton  clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  has 
lately  gone  to  his  rest.  His  biographer  records  a  practice 
of  his  which  is  well  worthy  of  the  imitation  of  every 
Christian  minister  : — "  Every  July  when  the  anniversary 
came  round  of  his  first  entrance  on  his  parochial  charge, 
it  was  his  custom  to  preach  a  sermon  upon  the  nature, 
the  purpose,    the    duties,    the    responsibilities,     or    the 


Say  your  Prayers  in  Fair  Weather.  359 

authority  of  the  Christian  ministry  ;  recalling  the  thoughts 
of  his  people  and  himself  to  the  relations  which  subsisted 
between  them,  and  urgently  pressing  home  the  question, 
What  results  had  arisen  from  it?  Thus,  in  July  1847, 
(for  instance,)  he  preached  a  sermon  on  i  Sam,  iii.  19  : 
'  Samuel  grew,  and  the  Lord  was  with  him,  and  did  let 
none  of  his  words  fall  to  the  ground ;'  in  which  he  set 
forth  with  luminous  clearness,  deep  pathos,  and  rich 
abundance  of  anecdote,  what  ought  to  be  the  marks  and 
evidences  of  a  successful  ministration  of  God's  word, 
sadly  contrasting  the  ideal  of  his  hopes  with  the  reality 
of  his  experience." 

Say  your  Prayers  in  Fair  Weather. 

A  sea  captain,  of  a  profligate  character,  who  com- 
manded a  vessel  trading  between  Liverpool  and  America, 
during  the  last  war,  once  took  on  board  a  man  as  a 
common  sailor,  to  serve  during  the  voyage,  just  as  he 
was  leaving  port.  The  new-comer  was  soon  found  to  be 
of  a  most  quarrelsome,  untractable  disposition,  a  furious 
blasphemer,  and,  hen  an  opportunity  offered,  a  drunkard. 
Besides  all  these  disqualifications,  he  was  wholly  ignorant 
of  nautical  affairs,  or  counterfeited  ignorance  to  escape 
duty.  In  short,  he  was  the  bane  and  plague  of  the  vessel, 
and  refused  obstinately  to  give  any  account  of  himself  or 
his  family  or  past  life. 

At  length  a  violent  storm  arose,  all  hands  were  piped 
upon  deck,  and  all,  as  the  captain  thought,  were  too  few 
to  save  the  ship.  When  the  men  were  mustered  to  their 
quarters,  the  sturdy  blasphemer  was  missing,  and  my 
friend  went  below  to  seek  for  him  ;  great  was  his  surprise 
at  finding  him  on  his  knees  repeating  the  Lord's  prayer, 


360  Say  your  Prayers  in  Fair  Weather. 

with  wonderful  rapidity,  over  and  over  again,  as  if  he  had 
bound  himself  to  countless  reiterations.  Vexed  at  what 
he  deemed  hypocrisy  or  cowardice,  he  shook  him  roughly 
by  the  collar,  exclaiming,  "  Say  your  prayers  in  fair 
weather^''  The  man  rose  up,  observing  in  a  low  voice, 
"  God  grant  I  may  ever  see  fair  weather  to  say  them." 

In  a  fev/  hours  the  storm  happily  abated,  a  week  more 
brought  them  to  harbour,  and  an  incident  so  trivial  passed 
quickly  away  from  the  memory  of  the  captain  ;  the  more 
easily,  as  the  man  in  question  was  paid  off  the  day  after 
landing,  and  appeared  not  again. 

Four  years  more  had  elapsed,  during  which,  though  the 
captain  had  twice  been  shipwrecked,  and  was  grievously 
hurt  by  the  falling  of  a  spar,  he  pursued  without  amend- 
ment a  life  of  profligacy  and  contempt  of  God.  At  the 
end  of  this  period  he  arrived  in  the  port  of  New  York, 
after  a  very  tedious  and  dangerous  voyage  from  England. 

It  was  on  a  Sabbath  morning,  and  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  persons  proceeding  to  the  several  houses  of 
worship,  with  which  that  city  abounds  ;  but  the  captain 
was  bent  on  far  other  occupation,  designing  to  drown  the 
recollection  of  perils  and  deliverances,  in  a  celebrated 
tavern  which  he  had  too  long,  and  too  often  frequented. 

As  he  walked  leisurely  towards  this  goal,  he  encountered 
a  very  dear  friend,  a  quondam  associate  of  many  a  thought- 
less hour.  Salutations  over,  the  captain  seized  him  by  the 
arm,  declaring  that  he  should  accompany  him  to  the  hotel. 
"  I  will  do  so,"  replied  the  other,  with  great  calmness,  "  on 
condition  that  you  come  with  me  first  for  a  single  hour 
into  this  house,  (a  church,)  and  thank  God  for  His  mercies 
to  you  on  the  deep."  The  captain  was  ashamed  to  refuse, 
so  the  two  friends  entered  the  temple  together.     Already 


Say  your  Pray €7' s  in  Fair  Weather.  361 


all  the  seats  were  occupied,  and  a  dense  crowd  filled  the 
aisle  ;  and,  by  dint  of  personal  exertion,  they  succeeded  in 
reaching  a  position  right  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  at  about 
five  yards  distance.  The  preacher,  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lar of  the  day,  riveted  the  attention  of  the  entire  congre- 
gation, including  the  captain  himself,  to  whom  his  features 
and  voice,  though  he  could  not  assign  any  time  or  place 
of  previous  meeting,  seemed  not  wholly  unknown,  particu- 
larly when  he  spoke  with  animation.  At  length  the 
preacher's  eye  fell  upon  the  spot  where  the  two  friends 
stood.  He  suddenly  paused,  still  gazing  upon  the  cap- 
tain, as  if  to  make  himself  sure  that  he  laboured  under  no 
optical  delusion ;  and,  after  a  silence  of  more  than  a 
minute,  pronounced  with  a  voice  that  shook  the  building, 
"Say  your  prayers  in  fair  weather." 

The  audience  w^ere  lost  in  amazement,  nor  was  it  until 
a  considerable  time  had  elapsed,  that  the  preacher  re- 
covered sufficient  self-possession  to  recount  the  incident 
with  which  the  reader  is  already  acquainted  ;  adding,  with 
deep  emotion,  that  the  words  which  his  captain  uttered  in 
the  storm,  had  clung  to  him  by  day  and  by  night  after  his 
landing,  as  if  an  angel  had  been  charged  with  the  duty  of 
repeating  them  in  his  ears ;  that  he  felt  the  holy  call  as 
coming  direct  from  above,  to  do  the  work  of  his  crucified 
Master  j  that  he  had  studied  at  college  for  the  ministry, 
and  was  now,  through  grace,  such  as  they  saw  and  heard. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  affecting  address,  he  called  on 
the  audience  to  join  prayer  with  himself,  that  the  same 
words  might  be  blessed  in  turn  to  him  who  first  had 
used  them.  But  God  had  outrun  their  petitions  ;  the  cap- 
tain was  already  repentant  before  his  old  shipmate  had 
ceased  to  tell  his  story.     The  power  of  the  Spirit  had 


362  Robiiisofi  of  Leicester. 


wrought  effectually  upon  him,  and  subdued  every  lofty 
imagmation.  And  so,  when  the  people  dispersed,  he  ex- 
changed the  hotel  for  the  house  of  the  preacher,  with  whom 
he  tarried  six  weeks,  and  parted  from  him  to  pursue  his 
profession^  with  a  heart  devoted  to  the  service  of  his 
Saviour,  and  with  holy  and  happy  assurances  which  ad- 
vancing years  hallowed,  strengthened,  and  sanctified. 

THE  REV.  THOMAS  ROBINSON 

Was  sometime  Vicar  of  St  Mary's,  Leicester,  and  the 
author  of  the  well-known  volume,  entitled  "  Scripture 
Characters." 

"  Who  ever  heard  him,"  says  Robert  Hall,  of  Leicester, 
his  personal  friend  and  admirer,  "  without  feeling  a  persua- 
sion that  it  was  the  man  of  God  who  addressed  him ;  or 
without  being  struck  with  the  perspicuity  of  his  statements, 
the  solidity  of  his  thoughts,  and  the  rich  unction  of  his 
spirit  ?  It  was  the  harp  of  David,  which,  struck  with  his 
powerful  hand,  sent  forth  more  than  mortal  sounds,  and 
produced  an  impression  far  more  deep  and  permanent  than 
the  thunder  of  Demosthenes,  or  the  splendid  conflagrations 
of  Cicero.  The  hearers  of  Mr  Robinson  were  too  much 
occupied  with  the  subject  he  presented  to  their  attention 
to  waste  a  thought  on  the  speaker  ;  this  occupied  a  second 
place  in  the  order  of  their  reflections,  but  when  it  did 
occur  it  assumed  the  character,  not  of  superficial  admira- 
tion, but  of  profound  attachment.  Their  feelings  towards 
him  were  not  those  of  persons  gratified,  but  benefited ; 
and  they  listened  to  his  instructions,  not  as  a  source  of 
amusement,  but  as  a  spring  of  living  water.  There  never 
was  a  settled  pastor,  probably,  who  had  formed  a  juster 
conception  of  the  true  end  of  preaching,  who  pursued  it 


Preaching  of  the  Puritans.  363 

more  steadily,  or  attained  it  to  a  greater  extent.  He 
preached  immortal  truth  with  a  most  extraordinary  sim- 
plicity, perspicuity,  and  energy,  in  a  style  adapted  to  all 
capacities,  equally  removed  from  vulgarity  and  affected 
refinement ;  and  the  tribute  paid  to  his  exertions  consisted 
not  in  loud  applauses,  it  was  of  a  higher  order  ;  it  consisted 
of  penitential  sighs,  holy  resolutions  of  a  determination  of 
the  whole  soul  to  God,  and  such  impressions  on  the  spirits 
of  men  as  will  form  the  line  of  separation  betwixt  the  happy 
and  the  miserable  to  all  eternity." 

From  the  memoirs  of  this  distinguished  preacher  it 
appears  that,  during  the  first  seven  years  of  his  ministry,  he 
composed  all  his  sermons  before  preaching,  and  delivered 
them  without  alteration  or  addition  from  the  manuscripts 
he  had  prepared.  After  that  period  he  preached  from 
short  notes.  These  contained  the  main  divisions  of  his 
subject,  and  a  sketch  of  all  the  leading  ideas  which  he 
meant  to  introduce,  together  with  his  formal  references  to 
the  Holy  Bible.  The  impression  produced  by  his  written, 
and  by  his  extemporary  sermons,  is  said  to  have  been 
much  the  same  ;  only  it  was  remarked  that  he  was  slower 
and  more  deliberate  in  the  delivery  of  the  latter  than  of 
the  former. 

Puritans. 
In  the  time  of  the  civil  war  of  Charles  the  First,  it  was 
quite  a  common  practice  among  the  Puritans  to  inform 
God  of  the  transactions  of  the  times.  "  Oh  my  good  Lord 
God,''  says  Mr  G.  Swathe  in  his  volume  of  prayers,  "  I 
hear  the  king  hath  set  up  his  standard  at  York  against  the 
Parliament  and  city  of  London.  Look  thou  upon  them. 
Take  their  cause  into  thine  own  hand  ;  appear  thou  in  the 


3  64  Preachifig  of  the  Pwitafis. 


cause  of  thy  saints,  the  cause  in  hand,  it  is  thy  cause. 
Lord.  We  know  that  the  king  is  misled,  deluded,  and 
deceived,  by  his  Popish,  Arminian,  and  temporising, 
rebellious,  indignant  faction  and  party,"  &c.  They  would, 
says  Dr  Echard,  in  their  prayers  and  sermons  tell  God, 
that  they  would  be  willing  to  be  at  any  charge  and  trouble 
for  Him,  and  to  do  as  it  were  any  kindness  for  the  Lord  ; 
the  Lord  might  now  trust  them  and  rely  upon  them,  they 
should  not  fail  Him  :  they  should  not  be  unmindful  of 
His  business  :  His  work  should  not  stand  still,  nor  His 
designs  be  neglected.  They  must  needs  say,  that  they 
had  formerly  received  some  favours  from  God,  and  have 
been,  as  it  were,  beholden  to  the  Almighty ;  but  they  did 
not  much  question  but  that  they  should  find  some  oppor- 
tunity of  making  some  amends  for  the  many  good  things, 
and,  as  I  may  so  say,  civilities  which  they  had  received 
from  Him.  Indeed,  as  for  those  that  are  weak  in  the 
faith,  and  are  yet  but  babes  in  Christ,  it  is  fit  that  they 
should  keep  at  some  distance  from  God,  should  kneel 
before  Him  and  stand,  as  I  may  say,  cap-in-hand  to  the 
Almighty ;  but  as  for  those  that  are  strong  in  all  gifts,  and 
grown  up  in  all  grace,  and  are  come  to  a  fulness  and 
ripeness  in  the  Lord  Jesus,  it  is  comely  enough  to  take  a 
great  chair,  and  sit  at  the  end  of  the  table,  and  with  their 
cocked  hats  on  their  heads  say,  God,  we  thought  it  not 
amiss  to  call  upon  thee  this  evening,  and  let  thee  know  how 
affairs  stand.  We  have  been  very  watchful  since  we  were 
last  with  thee,  and  they  are  in  a  very  hopeful  condition. 
We  hope  that  thou  wilt  not  forget  us ;  for  we  are  very 
thoughtful  of  thy  concerns.  We  do  somewhat  long  to 
hear  from  thee  ;  and  if  thou  pleasest  to  give  us  such  a 
thing,  /.  e.  victory,  we  shall  be,  as  I  may  so  say,  good  to 


Action  and  Delivery.  365 

thee  in  something  else,  when  it  lies  in  our  way.  The 
rebellious  too,  would  in  their  prayers,  pretend  to  foretell 
things,  to  encourage  people  in  their  rebellion.  The 
following  instance  is  to  be  met  with  in  the  prayers  of  the 
above-mentioned  Mr  George  Swathe,  minister  of  Denham 
in  Suffolk.  "  Oh  !  my  good  Lord  God,  I  praise  thee  for 
discovering  last  week,  in  the  day  time,  a  vision,  that  there 
were  two  great  armies  about  York,  one  of  the  malignant 
party  about  the  king,  the  other  party,  Parliament  and  pro- 
fessors ;  and  the  better  side  should  have  help  from  heaven 
against  the  worst  j  about,  or  at  which  instant  of  time,  we 
heard  the  soldiers  at  York  had  raised  up  a  sconce  against 
Hull,  intending  to  plant  fifteen  pieces  against  Hull  j 
against  which  fort,  Sir  John  Hotham,  keeper  of  Hull,  by  a 
garrison,  discharged  four  great  ordnance,  and  broke  down 
the  sconce,  and  killed  divers  cavaliers  in  it.  Lord,  I 
praise  thee  for  discovering  this  victory,  at  the  instant  of 
time  that  it  was  done,  to  my  wife,  which  did  then  presently 
confirm  her  drooping  heart,  which  the  last  week  had  been 
dejected  three  or  four  days,  and  no  arguments  could 
comfort  her  against  the  dangerous  times  approaching; 
but  when  she  had  prayed  to  be  established  in  faith  in 
thee,  then  presently  thou  didst  by  this  vision,  strongly 
possess  her  soul,  that  thine,  and  our  enemies  should  be 
overcome." 

ACTION  AND  DELIVERY. 

Advice  to  Yonng  Preachers. 

Diacomis.  Is  there  anything  against  which  you  particu- 
larly guard  me  in  delivering  my  sermons  % 

Pastor.  Yes  ;  guard  against  speaking  in  an  unnatural 
and  artificial  voice. 


366  Action  and  Delivery, 

D.  I  am  glad  that  you  have  mentioned  this ;  for  I 
perceive  that  ahiiost  every  minister  in  the  pulpit  speaks  in 
a  voice  which  he  never  uses  on  any  other  occasion,  and  I 
am  well  assured  that  it  is  that  which  makes  sermons  in 
general  so  uninteresting.  Can  you  tell  me  how  I  may 
manage  to  find,  as  it  were,  my  natural  voice  % 

P.  Yes ;  before  you  read  your  sermon  at  home,  speak 
some  sentence  in  a  whisper  to  your  chair,  or  writing  desk, 
if  you  please,  as  to  a  living  object;  and  then  suppose  this 
imaginary  auditor  to  recede  from  you  to  the  distance  of 
five  yards,  ten  yards,  twenty  yards,  and  strengthen  your 
voice  progressively  in  proportion  to  the  distance ;  and  then 
again,  suppose  him  to  approach  you  gradually,  in  the 
manner  in  which  he  had  receded,  and  let  the  force  of  your 
voice  proportionably  abate,  till,  on  account  of  his  proximity, 
you  find  a  whisper  will  suffice.  Do  this  \  and  if  your 
whisper  at  the  beginning  and  end  be  a  natural  whisper, 
you  may  be  sure  that  you  have  kept  your  natural  voice. 
If  you  speak  to  two  thousand  people  you  should  not  rise 
to  a  different  key,  but  still  preserve  your  customary  pitch. 
The  only  difference  you  are  to  make,  is  from  the  piano  to 
the  forte  of  the  same  note.  You  know  that  on  a  violincello, 
you  may  sound  scarcely  to  be  heard  ;  or  that  you  may 
strike  it  with  such  force,  that  it  shall  twang  again.  So  it 
is  with  your  voice,  it  is  by  the  strength,  and  not  by  the 
elevation  of  it  that  you  are  heard.  You  will  remember  that 
a  whole  discourse  is  to  be  delivered,  and  if  you  get  into 
an  unnatural  key,  you  will  both  injure  yourself  and  weary 
your  audience. 

D.  And  is  this  the  plan  you  would  recommend  for 
reading  the  prayers  % 

F.  No.  I  have   an   easier   and   better   plan   for   that 


Ungraceful  Delivery.  367 

never  read  the  prayers,  but  pray  them.  Utter  them 
precisely  as  you  would,  if  you  were  addressing  the  Almighty, 
in  the  same  language  in  your  secret  chamber ;  only  of 
course  you  must  strengthen  your  voice  as  in  the  former 
case. 

Ungraceful  Delivery, 
''  To  other  causes  of  the  unpopularity  of  sermons  may 
be  added  the  extremely  ungraceful  manner  in  which  they 
are  delivered.  The  English,  generally  remarkable  for 
doing  very  good  things  in  a  very  bad  manner,  seem  to 
have  reserved  the  maturity  and  plenitude  of  their  awkward- 
ness for  the  pulpit.  A  clergyman  clings  to  his  velvet 
cushion  with  either  hand,  keeps  his  eye  riveted  on  his  book, 
speaks  of  the  ecstacies  of  joy  and  fear  with  a  voice  and  a 
face  which  indicate  neither,  and  pinions  his  body  and  soul 
into  the  same  attitude  of  liinb  and  thought,  for  fear  of 
being  called  theatrical  and  affected.  The  most  intrepid 
veteran  of  us  all  dares  no  more  than  wipe  his  face  with  his 
cambric  sudarium  ;  if,  by  mischance,  his  hand  slips  from 
its  orthodox  gripe  of  the  velvet,  he  draws  it  back  as  from 
liquid  brimstone  or  the  caustic  iron  of  the  law,  and  atones 
for  this  indecorum  by  fresh  inflexibility  and  more  rigorous 
sameness.  Is  it  wonder  then  that  every  semi-delirious 
sectary,  who  pours  forth  his  animated  nonsense  with  the 
genuine  look  and  voice  of  passion,  should. gesticulate  away 
the  congregation  of  the  most  profound  and  learned  divine 
of  the  Established  Church,  and  in  two  days  preach  him  bare 
to  the  very  sexton  %  Why  are  we  natural  everywhere  but  in 
the  pulpit  %  No  man  expresses  warm  and  animated  feel- 
ings anywhere  else  with  his  mouth  alojie,  but  with  his 
luhole  body ;  he  articulates  with  every  limb,  and  talks  from 


368  Ungraceful  Delivery, 


head  to  foot  with  a  thousand  voices.  Why  this  holoplexia 
on  sacred  occasions  alone  %  Why  call  in  the  aid  of  paralysis 
to  piety?  Is  it  a  rule  of  oratory  to  balance  the  style 
against  the  subject,  and  to  handle  the  most  sublime  truths 
in  the  driest  manner  %  Is  sin  to  be  taken  from  men,  as 
Eve  was  from  Adam,  by  casting  them  into  a  deep  slumber  % 
Or  from  what  possible  perversion  of  common  sense  are  we 
all  to  look  like  field-preachers  in  Zembla,  holy  lumps  ot 
ice,  numbed  into  quiescence,  stagnation,  and  mumbling  % 

"  It  is  theatrical  to  use  action,  and  it  is  methodistical  to 
use  action.  But  we  have  cherished  contempt  for  sectaries, 
and  persevered  in  dignified  tameness  so  long,  that  while 
we  are  freezing  common  sense  for  large  salaries  in  stately 
churches,  amidst  whole  acres  and  furlongs  of  empty  pews, 
the  crowd  are  feasting  on  ungrammatical  fervour  and 
illiterate  animation  in  the  crumbling  hovels  of  Methodists. 
If  influence  over  the  imagination  can  produce  these  power- 
ful effects,  if  this  be  the  chain  by  which  the  people  are 
dragged  captive  at  the  wheel  of  enthusiasm,  why  are  we, 
v/ho  are  rocked  in  the  cradle  of  ancient  genius,  who  hold 
in  one  hand  the  book  of  the  wisdom  of  God,  and  in  the 
other  grasp  that  eloquence  which  ruled  the  Pagan  world — 
why  are  we  never  to  rouse,  to  appeal,  to  inflame,  to  break 
through  every  barrier,  up  to  the  very  haunts  and  chambers 
of  the  soul  ?  If  the  vilest  interest  upon  earth  can  daily  call 
forth  all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  are  we  to  harangue  on 
public  order  and  public  happiness,  to  picture  a  reuniting 
world,  a  resurrection  of  souls,  and  to  unveil  the  throne  of 
God,  with  a  wretched  apathy  which  we  neither  feel  nor 
show  in  the  most  trifling  concerns  of  Hfe  ?  This  surely 
can  be  neither  decency  nor  piety,  but  ignorant  shame, 
boyish  bashfulness,  luxurious  indolence,  or  anything  but 


Bell  on  the  Action  of  the  Hand.  369 


propriety  and  sense.  There  is,  I  grant,  something  dis- 
couraging at  present  to  a  man  of  sense  in  the  sarcastical 
phrase  of  popular  preacher ;  but  I  am  not  entirely  without 
hope,  that  the  time  may  come  when  energy  in  the  pulpit 
will  be  no  longer  considered  as  a  mark  of  superficial  un- 
derstanding ;  when  animation  and  affection  will  be  sepa- 
rated ;  when  churches  will  cease  (as  Swift  says)  to  be  public 
dormitories ;  and  sleep  be  no  longer  looked  upon  as  the 
most  convenient  vehicle  of  good  sense." — Preface  to  Sydney 
Smith's  Sermons. 

Bell  on  the  Action  of  the  Hand. 
"On  expression  in  the  hand.  Before  we  conclude  let  us 
speak  of  the  hand  as  an  organ  of  expression.  Formal  dis- 
sertations have  been  composed  on  this  topic.  But  were 
we  to  seek  for  authorities,  we  should  take  in  evidence  the 
works  of  the  great  painters.  By  representing  the  hands 
disposed  in  conformity  with  the  attitudes  of  the  figures, 
the  old  masters  have  been  able  to  express  every  different 
kind  of  sentiment  in  their  compositions.  Who,  for  example, 
has  not  been  sensible  to  the  expression  of  reverence  in  the 
hands  of  the  Magdalens  by  Guido,  to  the  eloquence  in 
those  of  the  Cartoons  by  Raphael,  or  in  the  significant 
force  in  those  of  the  Last  Supper  by  Da  Vinci  %  In  these 
great  works  may  be  seen  all  that  Quintilian  says  the  hand 
is  capable  of  expressing : — '  For  other  parts  of  the  body 
assist  the  speaker,  but  these  I  may  say  speak  for  themselves. 
By  them  we  ask,  we  promise,  we  invoke,  we  dismiss,  7ve 
threaten,  we  entreat,  we  deprecate,  we  express  fear,  joy,  grief 
our  doubts,  our  assent,  our  peniteiice ;  %ve  show  moderation, 
profusion;  we  mark  number  and  time." " — Murray's  edit,  of 
Bell,  1854,  p.  262. 

2  A 


370  D?'  Johnson  on  Action. 

Addison  on  Action. 
"  We  can  speak  of  life  and  death  in  cold  blood,  and 
though  our  zeal  breaks  out  in  the  finest  tropes  and  figures, 
it  is  not  able  to  stir  a  limb  about  us.  In  England  we  see 
people  lulled  to  sleep  with  solid  and  elaborate  discourses 
of  piety,  who  would  be  warmed  and  transported  out  of 
themselves  by  the  bellowings  and  distortions  of  enthusiasm. 
If  nonsense,  when  accompanied  with  such  an  emotion  of 
voice  and  body,  has  such  an  influence  on  men's  minds, 
what  might  we  not  expect  from  many  of  those  admirable 
discourses  which  are  printed  in  our  tongue,  were  they  de- 
livered with  becoming  fervour,  and  with  the  most  agreeable 
graces  of  voice  and  gesture  1 " — Addison's  Works,  by  Bp, 
Hurd,  vol.  iii.  p.  386. 

Dr  Johnson  on  Action. 
*'  Whether  action  may  not  be  of  use  in  churches  where 
the  preacher  addresses  a  mingled  audience  may  deserve 
inquiry.  It  is  certain  that  the  senses  are  more  powerful  as 
the  reason  is  weaker,  and  that  he  whose  ears  convey  little 
to  the  mind  may  sometimes  listen  with  his  eyes,  till  truth 
takes  possession  of  his  heart.  If  there  be  any  use  of 
gesticulation  in  the  pulpit,  it  must  be  applied  to  the 
ignorant  and  rude,  who  will  be  more  affected  by  vehemence 
than  delighted  by  propriety." — Rambler^ 


INDEX 


Abbe  Beauvais, 

Abbe  D'Espagnac, 

Abuse  of  the  pulpit,     ...  ... 

Action  and  delivery,    ... 

Adam  a  philosopher, 

Adams,  Thomas, 

Addison  on  action, 

Addressing  an  audience,  different  modes  of, 

Advice  to  the  bishops, 

Advice  to  overbearing  men, 

Advice  to  preachers,  John  Byrom's, 

Advice  to  young  preachers, 

^Ifric,  Bishop, 

Alderman  who  slept  at  church,  the, 

Alibi,  proving  an. 

Almsgiving,  Bourdaloue's  remarks  on,  ... 

American  preaching,   ... 

American  pulpit  pungencies,     ... 

Andre,  (Father,)  character  of,  ... 

Andrew,  St,   ... 

Andrewes,  Launcelot, 

Anecdotes  about  Plagiarists,     ... 

Anecdotes  of  Dr  Oliver  Maillard, 

Anecdotes  of  Dr  Robert  South, 

Anecdotes  of  Father  Andre,     ... 

Anecdotes  of  Father  Maimbourg, 

Anecdotes  of  Robert  Robinson, 

Anecdotes  of  Rowland  Hill, 

Anecdotes  of  Whitefield, 

An  eminent  judge  on  the  Temple  Church, 

Anthony,  (St,)  of  Padua, 

Anthony,  of  Vieyra,    ... 

Archbishop  Cranmer,  ... 

Archbishop  Fenelon,  ... 


FAGS 
133 
136 

50 
36s 
190 
160 
370 

64 
143 
106 
341 
365 

33 
166 
265 
"S 
227 
260 

62 
116 
165 
267 

56 


102 
202 
282 


37^  T'fidex, 


PAGE 

Archbishop  Leighton,  character  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...        "    ...  165 

Archbishop  Ussher,     ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  149 

Architecture,  (pulpit,)  in  England,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  13 

Arresting  the  attention,  on  the  necessity  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  272 

Arts  for  obtaining  popularity,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  86 

Augustine,  St,               ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  29 

A.\iey,  James,               ...            ...         "    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  255 

Backwoods  congregation,  sermon  to  a,  ...  ...  ...  ...  255 

Barlette  of  Naples,      ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  65 

Barrow,  Dr  Isaac,        ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  182 

Basil,  (St,)  the  eloquence  of,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  28 

Beam,  the,      ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  225 

Beauvais,  Abbe,           ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  135 

Bede,  Venerable,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  30 

Bedell,  (Dr,)  of  Philadelphia,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  262 

Beecher,  Dr  Lyman,                   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  „.  264 

Bell  on  the  action  of  the  hand,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  369 

Benson,  Joseph,           ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  324 

Bernard,  (Richard,)  quaint  method  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  156 

Bernard,  St,  ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  42 

Bernard,  (St.)  sermons  of,         ...  ...  -..  ...  ...  ...  45 

Berridge,  John,            ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  269 

Bishop  /Elfric,              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  33 

Bishop  Latimer,           ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ..  139 

Bishop  Maboul,             ...              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  137 

Bishop  Oito  and  the  consecration  sermon,  ...  ...  ...  ...  53 

Bishop  Sherlock,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  293 

Bishop  Jeremy  Taylor,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  171 

Bishop  Wulfstan,         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  33 

Bishops,  advice  to  the,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  143 

Bishopric,  (a,)  or  the  I?astille,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  135 

Bishopric,  singular  instance  of  promotion  to  a,   ...  ...  ...  ...  186 

Blair,  (Dr,)  on  Bishop  Sherlock,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  294 

Boldness  and  fidelity  of  Massillon,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  126 

Boldness  and  freedom  in  the  pu  pit,       ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  132 

Boniface,  St,                 ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  32 

Bosc,  Peter  du,            ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  133 

Bossuet,  Jacques  Benigne,        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  117 

Bourdaloue,  (Louis,)  the  Jesuit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  114 

Bradburn,  Samuel,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  317 

Bridaine,  Father,         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  log 

Brinckerinck,  Thomas,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  78 

Brother  Roger,  the  ecstatic,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  68 

Brown,  (Dr,)  on  the  preaching  of  Chalmers,      ...  ...  ...  ...  288 

Bunting,  Dr  Jabez,     ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  325 

Bunyan,  John              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  •••  ••.  199 

California,  street  preaching  in,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  270 

Calvin,  John,                 ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  •••  •••  106 

Cant,  Andrew,              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  •••  .••  180 

Capuchin's  sermon  at  Vienna,  a,             ...  ...  ...  •••  •••  37 

Cardinals,  a  serm-'U  for,             ...             ...  ...  ...  •••  •'•  104 

Cases  of  inattention,    ...             ...             ...  ...  .••  ...  •••  »73 


Index, 


373 


PAGE 

Cecil  on  long  sermons,               ...            ...            ...  ..  ..,  ...  358 

Chalmers,  Dr,               ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  285 

Charles  II.  and  Dr  South,        ...  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  192 

Chatenier,  Father,       ...             ...  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  no 

Cheating  in  trade,       ...              ...  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  58 

Cheating  the  doggies,                ...  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  290 

Chesterfield  (Lord)  and  Whitefield,        ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  249 

Chevreau,  Urban,         ...             ...  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  64 

Chillingworth,  William,              ...  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  1^7 

Christian  orator,  the  great,        ..,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  25 

Christian  pulpit  in  the  fourth  century,  the  ...  ...  ...  ...  21 

Chrysostom,  (St,)  the  eloquence  of,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  26 

Churches  in  the  fourth  century,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  12 

Clarke,  Dr  Adam,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  322 

Clerical  authorship,  vanity  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  304 

Clunaic  monks,  gluttony,  vanity,  and  hypocrisy  of,  .>.  ...  ...  42 

Colion  of  Nismes,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  65 

Collins,  John,               ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  251 

Condensation  of  style,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  jg2 

Conspiracy,  Holy  Maid  of  Kent's,  ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  146 

Cook,  Valentine,           ..              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  252 

Coster,  Francis,            ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  75 

Courage  of  Massillon,  the,       ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  123 

Courageous  preaching,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  123 

Cranmer,  Archbishop,  the  prudence  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  50 

Creation,  the  power  of  God  in,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  nS 

Criticism  on  the  style  of  Massillon,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  122 

Crying  in  the  wrong  place,      ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  235 

Curious  cathedral  custom,        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  182 

Dangers  of  the  world,                ...  ...  ...  ..,  ...  ...  jjg 

D'Espagnac,  Abbe,      ...             ...  ...  ..'  |'.'.  ."  .".  135 

Declamation  in  the  pulpit,        ...  ...  ...  .,'  ...  .'.*  109 

Delightful  mediseval  tale,          ...  ...  ...  .".,  '"„  ...  75 

Delivery  and  action,    ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  .,^  ..]  ^g^ 

Denunciation  of  reading  sermons  in  time  of  Charles  II.,  '*'  !."  .*.*.'  177 

Description  of  a  wise  and  prudent  wife,  ...  ...  ...  ...  154 

Different  modes  of  addressing  an  audience,  .*.*.  V.'.  ...  ...  64 

Dogs,  sermon  on,        ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  jqj 

Dow,  Lorenzo,             ...             ...  ...  ...  .''*  *"'  ...  229 

Drowsy  preachers,      ...             ...  .**.  .'.'*  .'.*'  '.''  '**  ^57 

Dryness  in  the  pu'pit,                 ...  *'.*  ".*'.  ]]'  .''"  ]."  ,44 

Duelling,  sermon  against,         ...  .*.*.'  .*.*.*  *.'.'.  V.'.  '.".".  ic8 

Dull  discourse,  a,         ...           ,„  ...  .*.*.  ]**  *'"  ,[[  jq„ 

Early  efforts  of  Robert  Hall,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ..  ...  ,04 

Early  mediaeval  preachers,        ...  ...  ].'.'  .".'.'  .'.'.'  .**.'  go 

Eccentricities  of  Rowland  Hill,  ...  '.*.'.  '..'.  *.'.'.  '.".'.  283 

Edict  of  Nantes,  revocation  of  the,  ...  ...  .'."  *.'.'  *"  103 

Elect,  on  the  small  number  of  the,  ...  ...  ",'„  ]"  ]|]  127 

Electioneering  sermon,              ...  ...  .'.|  |"  |"  |"  _q8 

Eloquence  of  St  Basil,  the,      ...  ...  ..'  **.'  '**  ,'*.'  28 

Eloquence  of  St  Chrysostom,  the,  ...  ..'.  *.'*  ",'„  "'.  26 

Eloquence  of  Massillon,            ...  ...  ...  ,..  ,[|  ".  jgj 


374  Index. 


PAGE 

Eloquent  tribute  of  Dr  Chalmers  to  Pascal,  ...  ...  ...  ...  134 

Esprit  Flechier,            ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  m 

Evangelical  painting,  specimen  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  266 

Evans,  Christmas,        ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  219 

Evans,  (Christmas,)  last  words  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  226 

Everard,  Dr  John,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  158 

Everlasting  burnings,  sermon  on  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  80 

Evil  of  long  sermons,                  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  88 

Exercises,  long  pulpit,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  279 

Extempore  preaching,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...                 aS,  178 

Extracts  from  mediaeval  sermons,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  51 

Extracts  from  Raulin,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  67 

Extraordinary  effects  of  Whitefield's  preaching,  ...  ...  ...  241 

Fair  weather,  say  your  prayers  in,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  359 

Fall,  (the,)  and  recovery  of  man,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  220 

Family  prayer,  Robert  Hall  on,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  303 

Farel,  William,             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  105 

Farindon,  Anthony,    ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  207 

Father  Andre,              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  100 

Father  Andre's  use  of  Proverbs,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  63 

Father  Bridaine,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  109 

Father  Chatenier,        ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  110 

Father  Faber's  story,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  84 

Father  Fulgentio,        ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  85 

P'ather  Gonthier,         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  131 

Father  Maimbourg,     ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  loi 

Father  Segneri,  the  Jesuit,       ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  79 

Father  Selle,    _             ....  98 

Father  Seraphin,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  91 

Faucheur,  Michael  Le,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  108 

Fawkes,  the  Rev.  Mr,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  30S 

Fenelon,  Archbishop,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  92 

Fervent  preaching  of  the  gospel,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  92 

Field,  Dr,          ...             180 

Finishing  one's  education,        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  121 

Fishes,  sermon  to  the,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  94 

Flavel,  John,                ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  153 

Flechier,  Esprit,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  iii 

Frailty,  (the,)  of  man,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  119 

Francis  Coster,             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  75 

Franciscan's  recantation,  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  69 

Frederic  the  Wise,  profound  observations  of,     ...  ...  ...  ...  74 

Free  church,  the,         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  289 

Fulgentio ,  Father,      ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  85 

Funeral  oration  by  St  Bernard,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  46 

Funeral  orations  and  their  tendency,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  70 


Gabriel  in  the  spruce  pine  tree,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  231 

General  rules  for  a  preacher,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  318 

German  pulpit  orators,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  72 

Gibbon  on  the  power  of  the  pulpit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  22 

Gilpin,  Bernard,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  215 

Gonthier,  Father,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  131 


Index. 


375 


Good  advice  to  the  pulpits,      ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ,.,  200 

Good  pastor,  quaint  description  of  a,  ...  ...  ...  ...  .,]  yg 

Good  preacher,  the,    ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  .,,  007 

Good  preaching,  rarity  of,        ...  ...  ...  ...  .,.  .,,  j  .3 

Good  results  of  hearing  mass,  ...  ...  ...  ,..  .,.  ^2 

Great  Christian  orator,  the,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ,.[  25 

Great  mediaeval  orator,  the,      ...  ...  ...  ...  ,.,  ,..  .5 

Great  preachers  love  proverbs,  ...  ...  ...  ...  „^  1^5 

Greek  and  Latin  quotations  in  sermons,  ...  ...  ...  ...  210 

Gymnastic  exercises  in  the  pulpit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  gy 


Hall,  (Robert,)  anecdote  of,     ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ..,  248 

Hall,  Robert,                ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  300 

Hall's,  (Robert,)  opinion  of  Bunting,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  326 

Hall's,  (R.,)  opinion  of  Richard  Watson,  ...  ...  ...  ...  337 

Hand,  (the,)  Bell  on  the  action  of,         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  369 

Harris,  (Dr,)  of  Hanwell,         ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  185 

Heathen,  state  of  the,                ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  338 

Heathen  temples,    _    ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  n 

Heatmg  apparatus  in  churches,              ...  ...  ...  ,„  ...  249 

Heber's  description  of  Hooker,  Jeremy  Taylor,  and  Barrow,       ...  ...  171 

Henry  IV.  reproved  in  church,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  131 

Hill,  Rowland,            ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  281 

Holy  Maid  of  Kent's  conspiracy,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  146 

Hooker,  Richard,        ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  171 

Horneck,  Dr,               ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  299 

Hour-glass,  the,          ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  86 

How  to  arrest  the  attention,    ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  273 

How  to  preach  a  sleepy  sermon,            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  278 

How  to  rouse  the  sleepers  in  church,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  167 

How  to  use  the  world, _             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  uj 

Howels,  the  Rev.  William,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  313 

Humour  in  sermons,                   ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  63 

Huntingdon,  William,               ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  309 

Huntingdon,  self-assurance  of,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  311 

Ignorance  of  the  monks,           ...            ...  ...  ...  .„  ...  73 

Illustrating  and  expounding,  singular  method  of,  ...  ...  ...  T58 

Important  considerations  in  making  a  sermon,  ...  ...  ...  358 

Inattention,  cases  of,                 ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  273 

Ingenious  method  of  exciting  attention,  ...  ...  ...  ...  308 

Infidel,  (American,)  conversion  of  an,   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  254 

Influence  of  fault-finding,         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  263 

Influence  of  the  pulpit,  the  true,             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  17 

Intemperate  warmth  in  the  pulpit,         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  106 

Introduction  of  Greek  and  Latin  quotations  in  sermons,  on  the,  ...  210 

Irving,  Edward,           ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  291 

Is  the  influence  of  the  pulpit  declining?  ...  ...  ...  ..  16 

Isocrates,  (the,)  of  France,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  m 

Italian  eloquence,  the  restorer  of,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  80 

Italian  preaching,       ...            ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  104 

Jacques  Benigne  Bossuet,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  117 


376 


Index. 


PAGE 

fames,  JohnAngell,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  35° 

fean  Baptiste  Massillon,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  121 

fean  Claude,                ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  no 

fean  Raulin's  style,    ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  66 

fesuits,  pulpits  preferred  by  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  •••  15 

Johnson,  (Dr,)  on  action,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  370 

Journey  for  the  young  child,  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  223 

Julius  Mascaron,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  131 

King,  John,  ...            ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  180 

Knox,  John,                 ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  i47 

Kruber,  Jacob,            ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...        ♦  ...  258 

La  Rue,         ...            ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  109 

Lassenius,  John,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  107 

Last  words  of  Christmas  Evans,  and  others,      ...  ...  ...  ...  226 

Latimer,  Bishop,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  139 

Laughing  and  crying  in  church,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  233 

Lay  preacher  by  special  licence,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  147 

Lecturing  Queen  Mary,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  147 

Leighton,  Archbishop,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  164 

Length  of  Dr  B.-irrow's  sermons,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  183 

Lewis  XIV.,  and  Bossuet,        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  120 

Literary  history  of  the  pulpit  in  France,  ...  ...  ...  ...  71 

Long  pulpit  exercises,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  279 

Long  sermons,  evil  of,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  88 

Louis  Bouidaloue,  the  Jesuit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  114 

Luther,  Martin,           ...              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  72 

Luther's  maxims  for  preaching,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  72 

Lyons,  (Dr,)  Bishop  of  Cork,  186 

Maboul,  the  Bishop  of  Aeth,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  137 

M'AU,  Dr  Robert  Stephens,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  345 

Maillard,  Dr  Oliver,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ..,  ...  ...  55 

Maimbourg,  Father,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  101 

Marshal  Turenne,  exordium  of  the  funeral  oration  on,    ...  ...  ...  112 

Mascaron,  Julius,        ...              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  131 

Massillon,  boldness  and  fidelity  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  126 

Massillon,  criticism  on  the  style  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  122 

Massillon,  eloquence  of,             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  127 

MassiJon,  the  courage  of,        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  123 

Mastership  of  the  temple,         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  294 

Maxim  to  a  young  preacher,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  89 

Mediaeval  sermons,  extracts  from,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  51 

Mediaeval  preachers,  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  69 

Memory,  (defects  of,)  in  the  pulpit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  179 

Menot,  Michael,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  59 

Mental  poverty  of  preachers,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  51 

Method  of  Bunting's  preaching,  the,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  327 

Michael  Le  Faucheur,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  108 

Michael  Menot's  style,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  60 

Milon,  of  Poitiers,  the  Crusader,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  71 

Miracles,  passage  on,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  293 


Index.  ^"jj 


Missions,  R.  Watson  on,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  340 

Modes  of  arresting  attention,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  228 

Monkish  error,              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  73 

Monks,  ignorance  of  the,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  73 

Mossman,  Dr,               ...              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  300 

Music,  Richard  Hooker  on,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  171 

Nantes,  revocation  of  the  edict  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  103 

Narni,  PhiHp  de,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  37 

Keff,  Fehv,  ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  236 

Newton,  Dr  Robert,   ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  331 


Old  Yorkshire  sermons,             ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  343 

Oliver  Mailiard,  Dr,                  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  55 

On  the  small  number  of  the  elect,  ...  ...  ...  ...  128 

Oration,  (Funeral,)  by  St  Bernard,       ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  46 

Orations,  Funeral,      ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  70 

Oratory,  (pulpit),  rise  and  progress  of  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  22 

Origin  of  Irving's  popularity,                  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  291 

Orkney  assistant  curate,  the,                   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  296 

Otto  (Bishop)  and  the  consecration  sermon  ...  ...  ...  ...  53 

Overbearing  men,  advice  to,                   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  106 

Parable  and  story-telling  style  of  preaching,     ...  ...  ...  ...  75 

Paramount  duties  of  Christians,  on  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  207 

Pascal,  tribute  of  Dr  Chalmers  to,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  134 

Passages  from  mediaeval  sermons,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  40 

Peace  with  conscience,              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  152 

Personality  in  the  American  pulpit,       ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  235 

Personality  of  seventeenth  century  preachers,  ...  ...  ...  166 

Peter  du  Bosc,             ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  133 

Philip  de  Narni,           ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  37 

Piety  and  eloquence  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  ...  ...  ...  ...  175 

Plagiarism  and  plagiarists,       ...              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  253 

Playfere,  Thomas,       ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  151 

Polite  and  fashionable  preachers,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  258 

Popular  preacher,  (the,)  and  his  plagiarisms,     ...  ...  ...  ...  267 

Popularity,  arts  for  obtaining,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  86 

Practice  of  reading  sermons,                   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  177 

Prayer,  (family,)  Robert  Hall  on,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  303 

Preach  a  sleepy  sermon,  how  to,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  278 

Preachers,  advice  to,                 ...             ...  ...  ...  168,  318,  341,  365 

Preachers,  mental  poverty  of,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  51 

Preachers  of  the  middle  ages,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  36 

Preaching,  American,                ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  227 

Preaching  of  Dr  Chalmers,      ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  286 

Preaching  of  Massillon,             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  125 

Preaching  on  the  duties  of  the  times  ...  ...  ...  ...  165 

Preaching  power  in  the  fourth  century,  ...  ...  ...  ...  23 

Preaching  prizes,         ...    _         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  87 

Presbyterian  eloquence  displayed,         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  150 

Prodigal  son,  droll  sermon  on  the,         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  98 

Prolixity  of  seventeenth  century  sermons,  ...  ...  ...  ...  107 


378 


Lidex. 


PAGE 

Proverbs  in  sermons,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  *.i  ...63,176 

Providence  Chapel     ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  312 

Proving  an  alibi,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  265 

Prudence  of  Archbishop  Cranmer,  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  50 

Pulpit,  abuse  of  the,                   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  50 

Pulpit  architecture  in  England,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  13 

Pulpit  drolleries,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  97 

Pulpit  flattery,              ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  306 

Pulpit  hour-giass,  the,               ...  ...  ...  ...  •..  ...  86 

Pulpit,  the  true  influence  of  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  17 

Pulpit  oratory,  rise  and  progress  of  the,  ...  ...  ...  ...  22 

Pulpit  pungencies,      ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  «..  ...  260 

Pulpits  of  Italy,  the,                  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  14 

Pulpits  preferred  b    the  Jesuits,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  15 

Pungencies,  American  pulpit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  260 

Punishment  of  lost  souls,          ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  30 

Punning,  the  spirit  of,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  180 

Puritans,  common  practice  among,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  363 

Quaint  American  modes  of  arresting  attention,  ...  ...  ...  228 

Quaint  description  of  a  good  pastor,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  78 

Quaint  sayings  and  maxims,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  161 

Quaint  titles  of  sermons,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  193 

Quarrelling  in  Church,              ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  217 

Queen  Elizabeth  and  Bishop  Rudd,  ...  ...  ...  ...  148 

Rarity  of  good  preaching,        ...  ...  ..»  ...  ...  ...  148 

RauHn,  extracts  from,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  67 

Reading  sermons,  practice  and  denunciation  of,  ...  ...  ...  177 

Ready-made  sermons,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  266 

Rebuke  of  the  men  of  London,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  144 

Religious  indiff"erence  rebuked,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  206 

Remarkable  preachers  of  the  middle  ages,  ...  ...  ...  ...  65 

Reproving  a  bishop,                   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  216 

Revivalist,  Dr  Bunting  a,         ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  329 

Revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  103 

Robinson,  (Robert,)  of  Cambridge,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  201 

Robinson,  (Thomas,)  of  Leicester,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  362 

Roger,  (Brother,)  the  ecstatic,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  68 

Rouse  the  sleepers  in  church,  how  to,  ...  ...  ...  ...  167 

San  Francisco,  street  preaching  in,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  272 

Sancta  Clara,  Abraham,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  95 

Sanderson,  Dr,            ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  178 

Santeul,  M.,                 ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  109 

Saurin,  the  Huguenot,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ,..  132 

Seaman's,  (a,)  criticism,            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  299 

Searching  for  a  compliment,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  91 

Segneri,  (Father,)  the  Jesuit,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  79 

Selden,  (John,)  on  sermons,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  351 

Self-assurance  of  Huntingdon,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  311 

Self-taught  preachers,  sennons  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  344 

SeLe,  Father,               ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  98 


Index.  379 


PAGE 

Seraphin,  Father,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  91 

Sergeant  If,                  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  269 

Sermon,  (a,)  and  its  results,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  205 

Sermon  for  cardinals,  a            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  104 

Sermon,  remarkable,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  357 

Sermon  drolleries,     ...              ...  ....  ...  ...  ...  ...  59 

Sermons  not  worship,                 ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  20 

Sermons  of  the  middle  ages,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  36 

Seventeenth  century  sermons,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  107 

Shaw,  Dr,      ...             ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  52 

Sherlock,  Bishop,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  293 

Short  sermon,  a           ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  100 

Simeon,  Charles,          ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  290 

Singular  announcement,           ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  109 

Sleepers  in  church,                     ...  ...  .„  ...  ...  ...  167 

Sleeping  abbe,  (the,)  reproved,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  92 

Sleepy  congregation,  a               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  107 

Smiling  and  weeping  in  church,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  234 

Soul's,  (the,)  flight  from  earth  to  heaven,  ...  ...  ...  ...  83 

South,  Dr  Robert,      ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  187 

Sparkling  Scripture  instances,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  40 

Specimens  of  Howel's  style,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  315 

Specimen  of  Sherlock's  stvie,  ...  ..  ...  ...  ...  29S 

Specimens  from  Jeremy  Taylor,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  174 

Specimens  of  R.  Watson's  style,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  338 

St  Andrew,                    ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  116 

St  Anthony  of  Padua,               ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  49 

St  Basil,          ...            ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  28 

St  Bernard,                  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  49 

St  Boniface,                  ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  32 

St  Chrysostom,  quotations  from,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  25 

St  Chrysostom's  method  of  preaching,  ...  ...  ...  ...  24 

Sterne,  Lawrence,       ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  194 

Stoughton,  John,         ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  152 

Strange,  John,     _         ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  250 

Street  preaching  in  San  Francisco,  California,  ...  ...  ...  ...  270 

Studying  the  Fathers,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  73 

Style  of  Bishop  Andrewes,        ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  169 

Style  of  St  Augustine,                ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  29 

Stj'le  of  the  Venerable  Bede,    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  31 

Style  of  Dr  Bunting,                  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  328 

Success  of  Huntingdon,            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  312 

Superstition,  denunciation  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  142 

Tavernier,      ...            ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  147 

Taylor,  (Jeremy,)  piety  and  eloquence  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  175 

Text,  suggestive  remarks  on  the  choice  of  a,      ...  ...  ...  ...  205 

Thomas,  Dr,  ...             ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  181 

Thomas  Playfere,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  151 

Three  scoffers,  the,     ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  356 

Time  and  chance,  Sterne's  sermon  on,  ...  ...  ...  ...  195 

Titles,  (quaint,)  of  sermons,     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  193 

Tongue,  (the,)  on  the  making  of,  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  163 

Toplady,  Mr,               ...             ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  266 

Tourneau,  M.  le,        ...            ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  91 


38o 


Index. 


Triumvirate,  the  first  Wesleyan  Methodist, 
Triumvirate,  the  second  Wesleyan  Methodist, 
True  influence  of  the  pulpit,  the, 


PAGE 
17 


Ungraceful  delivery,  ... 

Unintentional  plagiarism, 

Unpreaching  prelates, 

Urban  Chevreau, 

Use  of  proverbs, 

Ussher,  (Archbishop,)  as  a  prophet, 


367 
268 

139 
64 

63 
149 


Value  of  a  sermon, 

Vanity  of  clerical  authorship,  ... 

Venerable  Bede, 

Venn,  Henry, 

Village  missionaries,    ... 

Violence  of  song, 

Voices,  commendation  of. 


87 
304 

30 
205 
284 
283 
162 


Wagner,  (George,)  of  Brighton, 

Wandering  discourses, 

Wandering  thoughts,  ... 

Watson,  Richard, 

Wearisome  sermons, 

Wesley  on  preaching, 

Wesleyan  Methodist  Triumvirates, 

What  is  truth? 

Whimsical  interruption, 

Whitefield,  anecdotes  of, 

Whitefield,  George,     ... 

Whitefield  and  Lord  Chesterfield, 

Whitefield  and  Wesley  compared, 

Whiiefield's  power  over  a  mob,      ^     ^    ... 

Wife,  (a  wise  and  prudent,)  description  of, 

Wilkinson,  Robert,      ... 

Wilks,  Matthew, 

William  Farel,  ...  ...  •.. 

Williamson,  Dr, 

Wisdom  and  power,     ...  ...  ... 

Wit,  definition  of, 

Wulfstan,  Bishop,        ...  ...  ... 


..  358 
.  358 
274 
335 
89 
247 
317.  32s 
86 
307 
248 
239 
249 
242 
240 
154 
154 
249 
105 
300 
345 
184 

33 


Yorkshire  sermons,  (old,) 

Young  preachers,  suggestive  materials  for. 


343 
168 


